


Clint An Annoying Vampire

by bruvebanner, roshytsunami



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk (2008), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-05-15 23:49:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5805118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruvebanner/pseuds/bruvebanner, https://archiveofourown.org/users/roshytsunami/pseuds/roshytsunami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is a newly spawned vampire who has no clue the limits of his powers. He thinks just drinking blood is as easy as picking up the nearest human. He oversteps his boundaries when he attacks a human on an old vampire's turf but oh no he's cute? ***Mature rating on only for a few scenes that deal with sex***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this story happened because we saw a gif set of Jermey Renner as a vampire from Buffy and he looked so young we though hmm what type of mischief can he can get into with Bruce. This au idea came from just that one image. You can google search his name and find out more gifs but look at baby Clint the vampire http://jeremyrennergifs.tumblr.com/post/27259039309/how-he-started-as-dahmer-and-now-finally-has-become-aaro

Clint was thirsty again. He knew he should have had that woman a few miles back but she had a kid and he wasn’t going to let a kid go without his mom so he had done a good thing. Something he hadn’t done in a few years so karma should be looking down on him right now and handing out free human samples or raining humans he could suck and drain dry.

It also didn’t help that he had to fight a vampire that had been turned for far longer than him. Clint played dirty though and staked the guy with a stick. Whoever said you had to chop a vampires head off or do it the polite way? Anything goes when you want to kill someone.

It’s strange but killing wasn’t freaking him out as much anymore. Maybe it had something to do with killing the person who changed him. He had caught the guy Jacques Duquesne… the swordsman from the circus sucking on his brother draining him dry. Clint had tried to shoot an arrow at Jacques but he had blocked it and dropped his brother on the ground who was sucked dry. The swordsman then turn on Clint and bit into his neck.

He couldn’t fight against the strength of Jacques but he was able to take one of his smaller knifes and ram it into his chest. Jacques looked at him confused and astonished at what he did before he poofed into ashes. The next few days Clint was sluggish and ate his first human the following night. He left the circus after the incident. It wasn’t so bad on his own he was just always hungry all the time. It was like he had permanent munches and no amount of blood would fill him.

He just looked at humans as cows. Blood filled delicious cows…plus survival of the fitness and all that, why hello. He pauses in his thoughts and looks at the man walking alone with his dog. Clint grins as he runs towards the man wasting no time and piercing the man’s neck with his fangs and sucking on the blood. Oh man his blood tasted so good.

Bruce’s territory was a large expanse of cityscape, spread out farther than most vampires could manage to keep their territory in check; the sheer size would have mostly meant vagabond fledglings digging into their human flock, killing them off. Most vampires would not have staked a claim on a territory at all. But, then, most vampires did not live nearly as long as Bruce Banner. Or, in actuality, Brutus Baynier, though the name had slowly shifted to Bruce Banner over the hundreds of years he’d wandered the earth.

He kept a careful watch over his flock, tended to the human’s needs, in fact; he often stopped criminals, slaying them in their tracks, if they encroached on the humans he used for food.

Perhaps it was simply him clinging to humanity, the mercy he showed the human’s, the great diligence he held over his territory.

Or perhaps the blood tasted sweeter when seduced than when drank from a kicking and screaming vessel. Life blood had always tasted bitter to him.

This night was like any other; Bruce went across his territory with great care, combing the area with his fine senses, determining who he would feed from that night.

At least, he was thinking about that until he smelt the blood, and went winging towards the source, hearing a scuffling and a muffled sound of human panic in /his/ park.  
“Drop him,” he rumbled before he ever saw the creature attacking his human; his voice was a deep drawl of anger. “This human is not yours to take, fledgling.”

Clint hears Bruce and looks up at him and stops sucking but keeps a firm grip on the human. And like a dog or a child who has just been told not to do something he returns to sucking the blood from the man after rolling his eyes at Bruce. He found this human first it was his human to drink no way was this vampire stealing his meal.

Bruce lets out a low growl his voice getting deeper, “drop the human fledgling,” he commands before pulling the stubborn Clint off the human. He grips the back of Clint’s neck as if scolding a dog to spit out what they have in their mouth.

Clint releases him and spits him out like a scolded dog, “I’m still hungry so now you have to feed me. So feed me or die,” he says trying to slash at Bruce with his claws.

Bruce dodges the claws and grabs the fledgling by the wrist, eyes flashing a dangerous red. “I will not have your disrespect, /child/,” he spits, even as he lowers the unconscious human to the ground for his dog to look after.

“If you hunger greatly, than you will simply have to show me the respect I’m do, or leave and find another place to feed your lust.” His voice is stern, scolding.

Clint tries to get out of his grip and hisses, “it’s not lust I’m hungry.” He quickly bites Bruce’s hand that is holding his wrist and tries to suck his blood.

Bruce’s lips pulled back to expose his fangs, and he yanked his hand away from the creature, snarling. “Watch yourself, child; don’t make me kill you.” He bends his head, licking at the wound the boy had left, and it healed over almost instantly, before he reached forward and gripped the vampires collar. “If you are hungry, then you will ask for permission to feed in my lands.”

“Why should I ask permission you vampires didn’t ask permission before,” he snarls pulling his lips back to expose his fangs, “see I can show my fangs too big deal freckles.”

"I always ask permission," Bruce replied, pulling the vampire closer and letting out an angry rumble of annoyance. "I ask my donor and I ask you now; would you like to feed? Because if you would, you should ask soon; my patience is wearing thin, and the stake up my sleeve grows more and more enticing to use."

He watches the fledgling closely, eyes flickering over his fangs. Only two or three years old? So young, so hungry; so foolish.

Clint sighs at him, “fine but I already asked permission when I said you need to feed me but since you want it this way fine. I want food please,” he asks adding the please in because his mom god rest her soul taught him to add please to the end of a sentence when he really wanted something.

He looks at the vampire holding onto him and tilts his head confused, “how can you hide a stake in your sleeve with those skinny arms,” he asks. Clint wasn’t the best in situations like this and he was very blunt sometimes.

"Better," the older vampire replies, releasing his grip on Clint’s shirt only to grab his arm, rising to stand more fully.

“It is not up my actual sleeve,” Bruce murmurs, rolling his eyes as he slips a hand into the fold of his jacket and shows just the end of a wooden stake hiding against his chest. “But you would be wise to remember it’s a thing I possess. No acting stupid and I will help you feed; harm my flock, and I’ll kill you.”

Clint dusts himself off and sighs, “fine stake is in the pocket and I promise not to harm your blood cows…can I eat one yet,” he asks hungry as his stomach growls.

Bruce rolls his eyes; he feels like he’s handling a child. /Why/ he hasn’t just staked the little bugger is beyond him; but he hasn’t yet, and he promised him food, so he /will/ get him food.

“Follow me,” he says, stepping carefully over the prone man and out of the park, listening closely to be sure the vampire is following.

Clint steps over the man, “is he gonna turn cause that would suck if you let me suck just enough of his blood to turn him. Can I kill him so he doesn’t turn? I’ll take care of his dog. I like dogs and I can name the dog Lucky,” he grins rambling to Bruce.

Bruce looks down at the man, shaking his head. “He won’t turn, and he won’t die. He’ll be fine once morning comes.” Bruce looks to Clint, shaking his head. “You can steal the dog another time; unless you don’t want to hunt, then by all means take the dog and be hungry.”

He wondered how the vampire did not know how turning a human worked; it was more than just drinking blood. But he doubted the fledgling had every turned anyone, either, so of course he didn’t know. It didn’t matter much either way.

Clint looks at the dog then back to Bruce and frowns before heading back over to the dog leash and tying it around the man’s hand before following Bruce again. “I’m hungrier for food than wanting the dog,” he says, “hey there’s a person can I eat them,” he asks pointing at a girl.

Bruce follows his eyes to the girl, before he reaches out for Clint’s arm and shakes his head. “Too young; weak blood.” He walks them past her down the street, not releasing Clint’s arm. “And we do not eat them; we borrow, child.”

He pauses, sniffing the air, before he spots a woman, possibly in her thirties, walking crisply along.   
“Her,” is all he says, before he looks to Clint sternly. “Watch. Do /not/ interfere; I will let you feed when she’s ready.”

“Weak blood or not isn’t all blood the same he asks before being stopped by Bruce. He sees the woman and grins getting ready to run at her when Bruce holds him back. “come on I wanna eat now,” he whines as he watches Bruce descend on the woman.

The woman is minding her business when the hairs on her neck prick up.

Bruce does not run at her; nor does he try and attack her silently. Bruce glides into the woman’s space, his fingers touching her shoulders gently, like a breeze across her back, and he turns her half-way towards him.

“Good evening, ma’am,” he says, red eyes glowing hot, hypnotizing, as he cocks his head to the side and smiles a fanged smile. “If you wouldn’t mind, dear, please lift your head; I will be gentle.”

The woman doesn’t have time to gasp as she does what he asks and tilts her neck back so he can feed on her.

Clint watches surprised and is itching to just run down there and take the woman for himself. He’s just so hungry.

Bruce smiles at the offering, and very gently presses his lips to her throat—a thank you—before he sinks his fangs carefully into her throat and let’s a bit of blood flow over his tongue.

He pulls back, however, his hunger able to wait as he turns his eyes back to the youngling. “Come; but do not harm her. She will not struggle.”

She winces at the pain before relaxing. Clint doesn’t need to be told twice before coming over to the lady and sinking his fangs into her and sucking her blood greedily. She winces but Clint continues to suck her blood hungry.

Bruce does not move away, watching the young vampire feed, his hands soothingly passing over the woman’s hair, before he looks to Clint after a long enough time.

“Now stop. You don’t want to drain her,” he says, reaching to touch Clint’s shoulder, ready to yank him off if the need arises.

Clint growls at Bruce and continues to suck her blood.

Bruce moves instantly, slotting himself into Clint’s space and grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, like a misbehaving puppy, and snarls right back. “There will be more; release her, or I will use what I promised, you mongrel.”

Clint hisses at being removed and smirks, “I’d like to see you try,” he says having removed the stake from his coat earlier when he had been closer to Bruce.

Bruce reaches for his stake, and when he finds it gone he instantly yanks the younger vampire back by his hair, away from the woman.

“Awaken,” he says to her, allowing her to shake her head and walk on as if she had never seen them, before he turns his red eyes on Clint. “Where have you put it?” He asks, voice a snarl. “It would not be wise to test me in such ways, creature. I am so far beyond whatever you think me to be. I am ancient, and there are more ways to kill you than by stake.”

Clint hisses at being held back by his hair and huffs, “It’s with the knocked out human duh. When he wakes up he has some protection and can stab a guy or girl if they try to hurt him again. Cause half bitten slightly drained humans are easy to drink.”

He rolls his eyes, “oh yeah cause there are so many ways you can kill me. Come on I’m still hungry need more food you promised remember and vampires keep their promises don’t they or are you a douchbag vampire.”

"Vampires don’t keep their promises," Bruce mutters, face bitter as he releases Clint’s hair, before he turns annoyed eyes on Clint. "But I do. Follow me; you get one more for the night, and you’ll be done. I can’t expect to feed you all night while I go hungry."

He didn’t bother commenting on how many ways Bruce could have killed him; Clint wouldn’t believe half of them.

Clint rolls his eyes as Bruce lets him go, “right you’re not a vampire have you looked in the mirror lately oh wait you can’t because you’re a vampire,” he says crossing his arms following him.

“You know you could just let me go and feast on anyone instead of wasting your time looking out for me. I know how to hunt on my own.”

"I don’t trust you among my flock," Bruce replies, sending a glare Clint’s way. "You only know how to take from the humans; you don’t know how to seduce their blood from them." He looks over to the cocky young vampire. "It tastes all the sweeter with acceptance in their veins."

Clint raises an eyebrow at him, “blood taste like blood dude,” he says spotting a fat man, “Dorito chip man please Bruce please. I’d like to see you seduce that guy,” he grins thinking he has won.

Bruce turns disgusted eyes on Clint at that. “You are a very young vampire,” he says, shaking his head. “The blood you seek you must choose wisely; if you simply choose the /easy/ prey, you will become slow and encumbered like them.”

He smirks a bit, looking to Clint. “But if you /really/ want the ‘dorito man’, then I will watch to see if /you/ can seduce him properly.”

“So you literally are what you eat? Then why didn’t we get boobs when we drank from the lady? You’re not making too much sense. Hmm maybe you are getting senile in your old age,” he grins.

He looks at dorito man and grins, “no problem art of seducing dortio man is on.” Clint appears behind the man and makes a loud enough noise to make him aware of his presence before he attacks him and begins to suck his blood. He lifts his head up and yells at Bruce, “he tastes like doritos and junk food you should have some Bruce.”

Bruce curled his lip at Clint’s /enjoyment/ of such disgusting blood. He shakes his head, walking over with a look of revulsion. “I would rather not, thank you very much,” he mutters, watching the vampire closely. “Also, I don’t believe that was seduction; simply over powerment. You have much to learn, little one, if you wish to survive another year.”

“Pssh more for me then…hey don’t you miss human food? This is like the only way to get your junk food on,” he says as he stops drinking from the guy.

“Ok I’m done eating and by the way I’ve been doing awesome on my own the last two years so you can take the cobwebs out of your ass now gramps.”

Bruce’s jaw clicks, and he nearly reaches out to snatch the little cretin up and kill him, but he refrains. “I am as old as I am for a reason; the first decade you will be strong, you will be fast, and you will /think/ you are smart. You will learn that the taste of human food is nothing compared to being able to defend yourself.”

Bruce’s hunger begins to become more apparent, and he licks at his fangs in annoyance. “Now; it has been a month since I’ve fed and I would like to go about it now, so if you are done bothering my flock I would like for you to stop pestering me.”

“Months,” he asks shocked, “how can you stop feeding for months?”

He follows Bruce even though he told him not too, “hey there’s a human what about that one?”

Bruce looks at Clint, raising one brow archly. “As I said; I am very old.” He turns his eyes forward, away from the vampire following at his heel like a lost puppy. “For now you thirst every day; within time, however, you will be able to resist for weeks, months, perhaps even a year at a time.”  
He turns his gaze toward the human the youngling had pointed at, before shaking his head. “Sick,” he said, sniffing the air. “Smell the fever. I will choose another.”

“So you can still drink from her didn’t you old types use to say oh blood letting is the cure all for anything,” he teases.

Bruce clears his throat, trying to avoid the amused smile that had almost come to his lips. “Actually, that was me,” he said, keeping his eyes away from the fledgling. “I was a physician for many, many years.”

He sniffed the air, pausing in his stride. “Smell. Strong. Someone young.” He closed his eyes. “Male…” He opened his eyes, fangs exposed in a smile.

“Mine.”

His eyes widen, “really? You got your science wrong then doc,” he teases as he sniffs the air and smells the male, “hey gramps how ya going to seduce this one,” he laughs to him as he watches Bruce fly off to his prey.

"Carefully," Bruce replies as he goes, spotting the man leaning at the end of the street against a convenience store wall, looking like he was waiting for a ride. He stands just out of the circle of a street light, and Bruce flits up beside him like a ghost, leaning over to murmur in his ear. "Follow me."  
When the man turns in surprise, Bruce’s gaze burns red and magical.

The man looks at Bruce and begins to follow him. Clint jumps right behind Bruce and pokes Bruce, “how are you doing the sexy red eyes?”

Bruce is very careful, taking the man by the chin to lead him along, before glancing towards Clint, eyes still burning. “It is a very complicated trick; if you’d let me feed, perhaps I could tell you about it,” he snapped, feeling his hunger grow with proximity to such a worthy meal.

“Aw is gramps getting testy,” he teases as he moves back from Bruce because he’s not stupid. “Go eat your meal…hey what’s your name anyway? I’m Clint if you wanted to know.”

"I’m Bruce," he replies sharply, moving to press his victim against the alley wall. "Bruce Banner."

And then he tilts the man’s chin up, lips pulling back as he sinks his fangs deep into the man’s throat, taking a long, hungry pull of blood.

Clint laughs as he drain the victim, “I’m Bond, James Bond,” he laughs, “oh come on you have to know that reference Bruce.”

The man goes limp in Bruce’s hold not dead just getting weaker from the blood loss.

Bruce presses closer against the human, feeling suddenly weak with hunger, before he feels the pulse in the man’s throat stutter and pulls back with guilt, teeth stained red and eyes unfocused, breathing heavy.  
He swallows after a moment, letting the unconscious man slump to the ground before Bruce licks his lips and looks over at Clint, one brow arched. “I know of James Bond; I’m ancient, not dumb.”

“Well I was just checking since the last old guy didn’t,” he says, “that was a quick meal. By the way are you still hungry?”

Bruce takes a deep breath through his nose, trying his best to school himself into calm. “Yes; but I will be fine. This should sate my need for at least another week.” He couldn’t allow himself to gorge, no matter how tempting it may have been.

“Then go eat another one you’ve been dry for months you’re allowed to pig out tonight.”

Bruce shakes his head, clearing his throat and stepping away from the prone human, looking towards the other vampire. “I…cannot,” he says, quietly, before turning on his heel, stalking away. “I must not allow myself to feel sated; if I do, than I will be fulfilled, and that must not be.”

“Oh yeah cause having a full stomach is such a bad thing,” he says sarcastically, “why can’t you be fulfilled huh,” he asks poking him.

Bruce curls his lip at the poke, but refrains from snarling at him. “Being ‘full’ means that I will be comfortable,” he says, jaw locked. “A monster must not be comfortable; it can’t be hell if I’m having fun, can it?”

He looks at the fledgling, expression sour.

Clint frowns and then looks at him, “wait are you saying,” he laughs, “please don’t tell me you’re a vegan vampire. Come on that Twilight series a few years back was complete bullshit.”

Bruce snaps his eyes to Clint, unable to hold back his growl this time. “If I were sparkling vegan vampire, I would not have drank blood, now would I?” Bruce snapped, before he swallowed his anger and kept walking, quickening his pace. “I do not kill, and I do not drink to my fill; it is my only rules and my punishment.”

Clint jumps back before grinning, “so what you really meant to say is your Edward in disguise. Oh no woe is me I have to drink blood and kill people blah blah blah. Come on you need to eat to live and live to eat…or is it undead now? Whatever things is people are cows now and you need to eat the cows to live. I don’t see anything wrong with it. Humans do it to animals all the time…”

Bruce moved too fast to see properly, and suddenly he had Clint pinned against the wall, his eyes blazing. “Human’s are not cows,” he snarled, arm pressed hard over Clint’s throat. “You will learn that, by god, you’ll learn that, once the high from your first years wears off. You’ll regret ever /goddamn/ death you’ve caused, and it’ll eat at you, night and day, until someone runs a stake through your useless heart. Understand me?!”

Clint chokes as Bruce presses a hand against his throat before being released, “Really? I doubt I’m going to regret eating someone who attempted to rape a girl or was harassing a guy.”

Bruce spat, turning away and hunching his shoulders. “Yes, that’s well and good, how valiant; how many innocent bystanders have you killed as well, fledgling? How many /people/, people with husbands and wives and mothers and fathers, live and /families/? How many children have you orphaned?”  
He hunches further, starting to walk away once more. “You are like any other fledgling, never listening to me…”

“Why would I orphan a kid when I was an orphan it sucks and yeah maybe I killed a few innocent people but innocent people always die it’s nothing new. You can’t save everyone but you can try to eat the bad ones so that the innocent ones don’t die so quickly.”

"That’s not the /point/!" Bruce shouts, before he rubs a hand over his face. "I cannot stand about and scream about my ideals for a /child/; I have already stayed out to long, blathering with the likes of you. Leave me be."

He feels tired, as though he hadn’t had any blood to drink at all, and he closes his eyes, sighing in almost painful annoyance.

Clint backs off and rolls his eyes, “fine go on and be a mopey little vampire. You’re stuck as a vampire quick trying to act human dumbass. That life is over,” he says clenching his fists and leaving.

Bruce watches him go for only a moment, feeling heavy, feeling /tired/, before he turns, walking along so he can return to his home and continue with his work. He is almost glad the punk of a vampire has left; it means fewer distractions for him.

He can’t help but frown when he remembers he never did show the kid his trick with the eyes. It would have helped him greatly.


	2. Red Eyes

Clint kicks at the dirt feeling full for the moment and wanders on Bruce’s property when he gets an idea. Bruce said this was his land right so maybe a little vandalism will get that stick out of his ass.

He goes into town and scares a couple of punks and steals their spray cans before coming back to Bruce’s turf. He uses the spray can to make a stick figure of Bruce arguing and being a jerk before going to another building and doing the same thing.

He yawns and catches the time and gasps as he tries to find somewhere to hide for the day. Since he’s not close enough to go home he finds an old house and finds a safe area to sleep in the basement.

Bruce sleeps within his old mansion, a half destroyed thing from the outside, while the basement is an array of science equipment and other various things—bookshelves being a good example—but that’s as far as the stereo-types go; he sleeps out in the open in the basement, instead of some closet or coffin to hide in, and he does not sleep the entire day, sometimes not sleeping at all when occupied with one experiment or another.

When the sun sets and he awakens, though, he’s in for quite a treat when he walks outside and sees Clint’s ‘artworks’ down half of his turf.

Clint yawns as he wakes from the basement of the house. He hears movement upstairs and panics. Crap squatters were in the house, wait a second squatters are in the house. He grins, “dinner is served.”

He moves from the basement to the living room area hungry and is about ready to eat the person sleeping on the floor when he pauses and sees a child sleeping next to him. He curses before exiting the house out the window and stalking for some more prey on Bruce’s turf.

Clint had just sucked another human not dry this time and let them go before he took the cans he hid last night out from their hiding place and began to doodle on the walls again.

Bruce could hear the spraying from a good distance away, and he hissed to himself. If it was human, he would not hold back in eating it today.

He went shooting off towards the sound, and came up behind the culprit, grabbing the spray paint from behind before he even realized it was Clint.

“Why do you vandalize /my/ buildings?”

Clint feels someone pull the can from his hand and grins when he sees that it’s Bruce, “to get your attention sweetheart. Hey you don’t look so good maybe you should get something to eat.”

Bruce pulls away, frowning, before scowls. “I am fine; you have my attention, what do you want, fledgling?” Bruce asks, trying to hide his flustered feeling at being called ‘sweetheart’. He liked old grump better.

“Are you a man of your word or not? You forgot to show me the red eye trick and you really need food,” he says looking at Bruce’s face flushing. “Flushing means you’re hungry when you’re a vampire right? I got so red one time when I was hungry…”

Bruce shakes his head, trying to clear his head. He was too tired for all of this. “I am /fine/; any flushing must have been a trick of the light,” he lied, waving it off before he sighed. “And I will teach you the trick, but it is not easy.”

“Yeah sure sounds great hold that thought,” he says disappearing in a flash before coming back a few seconds later with a human, “here eat.”

The human looks up at Bruce frightened and begging for their life.

Bruce glared at Clint, even as he flashed his eyes at the human and made them docile and accepting.  
“I hate you,” Bruce mutters, but with a human this close he cannot argue, tilting their head back and taking a long, greedy gulp.

“No you love me,” Clint tease him and pats him on the back, “aw does baby need to burp,” he asks patting his back.

Bruce just glares at Clint while he drinks, his anger causing his victim to whimper, before he drains them to unconsciousness and lays them to the ground, almost unwilling to pull away. When he does he grimaces at the blood that drips from his lip and wipes at it furiously. “You are quite the thorn in my side, fledgling.”

“Hey is that any way to say thank you to someone for getting you something to eat,” he says fake pouting and crossing his arms.

Bruce looks at Clint, licking his red lips, before he rolls his eyes and sighs. “Thank you; but next time, just…allow me my fast, yes? I would rather be sick than fat.” He’s joking, if it’s a bit dry and dark humored, but he also knows that this ‘sick’ he’s feeling is not a thing, and he’ll be fine, with or without blood.

Clint look at him up and down before poking him in the stomach, “aw you’re not fat freckles who told you that. I’ll go beat them up,” he says in a baby voice as he hugs Bruce.

Bruce makes a face at the arms around him, eyes wide and arms lifted to try and ward it off. “Wh-what are you doing?” He asks, the blood still in his system burning in his face. “I do not /hug/.”

“Oh,” Clint looks up at him giving him a fanged grin, “then what are we doing arm sex,” he laughs releasing him. “Hey have you ever heard of elbow sex it’s from this movie and it starts out like this…” he puts his hands up flat.

Bruce stares at the young vampire like he’s insane…and he’s starting to think he is. He watches him warily, staring at his hands. “Elbow sex…?” He asks, absolutely worried that this guy was a complete nit-wit.

“Yeah elbow sex,” he says, “put your hands up like mine and then you touch push up then slide down. Elbow sex,” he grins making Bruce do the motion with him.

Bruce shakes his head, rolling his eyes with a sigh. “You are so childish,” he mutters, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest. He’s not participating in that any time soon.

“Says the man who just had elbow sex in the last 300 years,” he grins, “hey I’m hungry and you look hungry wanna suck some people together?”

Bruce had to be patient with this man. “If I feed with you will you stop your blathering? That would be lovely.” He arched one brow, trying to make it plain that he was /annoying/ Bruce.

“Si Senor,” he grins at him, “food now?”

Bruce takes him by the arm, nodding with exasperation. “Yes, now follow me; I’ll get you /good/ blood, instead of dorito loving fat men.”

“Yay the fluffy dark prince is getting me good blood,” he teases following him. It so easy to push Bruce’s button and entertaining.

Bruce glances back to glare. “I am not fluffy,” he denies, though he sounds like he’s pouting, before he spots a pretty woman at the edge of the park, absently staring up at the sky.

“Do you want to know how to seduce, fledgling?” Bruce asks, holding Clint back from attacking.

Clint spots the girl and tries to run towards her but is stopped by Bruce, “yeah sure are you going to do the red eye thing again?”

"I’m going to teach /you/ to do it," Bruce murmurs, lowly. "We will test it on me, and then we will try it on her, alright, child? Don’t go fooling off, okay?"

“Ok fine just teach me how to do the glowy eye thingy,” he says looking at him.

Bruce nodded, looking at Clint thoughtfully for a moment, before he sighed. “Alright; I need you to focus. Think about what you would want from me; anything at all. A movement, a word, an action; anything. Think about it, concentrate, and /feel/ the /need/ for whatever it is, whether you really need it or not.” Bruce paused. He was going to regret this. “Your eyes will burn red only when you’re in great need, but once you look into someone’s eyes like that, they’re yours to command.”

“Hmm anything at all you say,” he grins before getting his idea in his head, “ok got it.”

He begins to concentrate and looks at Bruce as he eyes slowly turning red,” Are they red yet?”

Bruce watches his eyes carefully, staring into their blue, and once they begin to burn red he nods. “They’re red; but do they work?” He asks, glancing away from Clint’s eyes for only a minute, trying to prepare himself for whatever was to come.

“So do I just tell you what I want or ask for it? How does it work like if I said kneel before your king,” he says to Bruce eyes staring at him, “what happens?”

Bruce drops to his knees like a stone in a pool, and he stares up at Clint, looking completely lost in the red. That’s all it takes is a whispered command, and suddenly the victim is all yours.

Clint watches as Bruce falls down to the ground kneeling and gasps before grinning, “ok now say Clint is the best vampire and I’m a ballerina,” he smirks as Bruce repeats the phrase to Clint. Clint laughs, “now dance,” he tells Bruce.

Clint laughs louder at the spectacle before he stops and looks at Bruce, “ok serious question. Why were you blushing early? It’s cause you were hungry right?”

Bruce knew he’d regret this horribly. “You called me sweetheart,” Bruce replied instantly, nose twitching as he tried to break the hold. “I’ve never been called sweetheart before.”

Clint breaks the hold shocked, “seriously no one’s ever called you sweetheart and it freaked you out…wow you need to get laid bad don’t you,” he said awkwardly.

Bruce blinks at being released, before he looks at Clint, offended and baring his fangs. “It’s not any of your business,” he spits, once more his angry self. “You shouldn’t have pried; I shouldn’t have let you in my head.” His face burns red once more, but this time with an angry embarrassment.

Clint looks taken back, “look I’m sorry but everyone has at least been called sweetheart or some other love sick nickname before it just seemed weird you hadn’t you’re what 300 years old?”

"A thousand," Bruce corrects, face blank as he turns away, hands in fists at his sides. "Yes, I am well aware how…pitiable it is. Please refrain from speaking of it. Please."

“A thousand? The hell are you a founder of vampire people or what,” he teases him, “should I call you daddy now. You have been calling me a child the last two days.”

Bruce’s face turns red once more. “Please don’t call me that,” he says, ducking his head, before he glances to Clint. “I call you that because you /are/ a child. You’re very young, compared to me, at least.”

Clint looks at him and knows he has to change the mood fast, “so call you grandpa instead?”

Bruce let’s out an annoyed sigh. “If it pleases you, fine, call me what you wish.” He rolls his eyes, before looking to Clint. “Now, you know how to seduce; show me how it’s done on her,” he says, point to the woman still a distance away.

“Aw thanks grandpa,” he says giving Bruce a quick hug before approaching the woman. He begins to concentrate as his eyes turn red. He makes his presence known and stares at the woman, “give me your blood.”

Bruce watches carefully as Clint approaches the woman, and when she willingly lifts her head, exposing her throat, he nods his approval, glad Clint will have this skill for whenever he decides to leave Bruce.

Clint begins to feed on the woman until he is filled before releasing her and letting her go. He walks back towards Bruce and grins, “oh yeah how was that Bruce?”

"You did good," Bruce replies, absently reaching out to brush a drop of blood from Clint’s lip.   
“You still have much to learn, but that skill will at least keep you from feeding on screaming victims anytime in the future.” He rubs his hand together, absently glancing around. All this talk of feeding and he still hungered. Clint was a bad influence.

He smiles and pats Bruce’s back, “come on man let’s go find you some food. You’re getting to be skin and bones don’t ya know,” he says in a Jersey accent.

Bruce glanced over to Clint, and then down at himself, scowling. “Let us get food,” he agrees, none the less, because if Clint refuses to drop it, he will simply have to do it. He hopes to find a quick victim soon; night should be ending all too soon, and he wanted to be fed before then.


	3. Practice Makes Perfect

It has been a long night. The humans are not coming out in the dark as often as before because of recent attacks and killings by blood draining murderers. It’s a really mystery with human detectives on the case. It has spooked most humans but not all. Clint begins searching for a victim, “what about that guy over there he looks healthy for your tastes.”

Bruce sniffs the air and, for once, isn’t disappointed. “Good choice,” he replies, a small, surprised smile on his face. He looks over to Clint, raising a brow. “Are you full? Because if not I am not adverse to sharing.”

Clint shakes his head, “naw I’m full you can have him but can I do the eye thing first and bring him to you please,” he asks giving him the puppy eyes, “I wanna practice on him.”

Bruce’s lips twitch at the puppies eyes, like he wants to smile, before he looks away and nods. “Alright; practice makes perfect,” he replied, nodding to Clint and giving his agreement.

Clint woots before walking to the unsuspecting victim he tries to use the eyes on the man before he stops and hisses at the man. He was a hunter. The man moves quickly trying to stake Clint who just dodges and hisses at the filthy hunter.

Bruce looks up with surprise—a hunter, in his territory? How could he have missed it?  
He shoots forward, fangs exposed as he moves instantly to protect the younger vampire, shifting to a crouch, swiping out at the hunters stake. “Leave, now; hunt elsewhere or die.”

The hunter doesn’t acknowledge Bruce and tries to kill Clint as he shoots at Bruce with silver bullets.

Bruce let’s out another snarl, enraged that this hunter would try and hurt Clint, and he grabs him, snapping his wrist so his weapon clatters away and shoving him into a wall, Bruce flashing his fangs. “You will not /touch/ him,” he snarls, digging his claws into the man’s back.

The man hisses in pain before stabbing Bruce in the side with one of his stakes. Clint panics and gets from behind Bruce to attack the hunter.

Bruce grips at his side, letting out a howl of pain and falling back and down to one knee.  
“Cl-clint, get /back/,” he snarls, even as his eyes water with pain and he gasps in labored breaths. He struggles back to his feet, stepping forward with weak knees.

Clint doesn’t listen and instead bites into hunter’s neck and pulls away ripping out the jugular. The hunter gasps and slides down the wall as he bleeds out still trying to hurt Clint with the stake.

Bruce latches onto the hunter’s arm with claws and fangs, keeping the stake away from Clint.

The man struggles with Clint laying on the ground dead. Clint pants adrenaline high wearing off now that the danger is gone, “sorry about that. Are you ok,” he asks worried.

Bruce looks to Clint, trying to nod, before he clutches his side and whimpers, going down hard, eyes fluttering shut.

Clint curses and moves the body to Bruce, “Bruce you have to drain him dry drink hurry.”

Bruce drags in harsh breathes, eyes still half shut, and the hand not pressing into his side reaches for the body, struggling to pull the wrist to his lips.

Clint moves the wrist to Bruce’s lips and cuts it with his fangs so the blood flows. “If you need to you can drink from me,” he says worried. There’s more blood on the pavement than in the hunter since Clint ripped his jugular out.

Bruce tries to latch onto the wrist, his hand shaking like mad, and as the blood drips across his lips he looks wildly to Clint, half-mumbling.  
“I don’t want to die yet.”

Clint slices his wrist holding it out for Bruce, “come on you have to keep drinking,” he says giving up on giving the hunter blood to Bruce. What a waste of good blood.

In a last desperate grab for life, Bruce grips his wrist and drinks, long and hard, eyes closing with fear and pain, and after a moment he slumps to the ground with a sigh of pain, still clutching his side, though now he lays unconscious, half-healed and shivering.

Clint gets weaker the more Bruce drinks and has to kneel over as he shakes, “Bruce? Bruce can you walk?”

Bruce opens his eyes, just a sliver, and looks blearily at Clint, his body shivering. He doesn’t answer, just grumbles something and tries to shakily crawl to his feet, still clutching the wound in his side. A stake wound would take longer to heal, even with blood coursing through his system.

Clint doesn’t like the look of Bruce’s face, “dude where do you crash for the day?”

Bruce’s eyes drift shut, even as he stands, before his head jerks and his eyes find Clint. “Mansion,” he murmurs, voice heavy with pain. “Other…end of town.” He tips to the side slightly, but rights himself.

Clint picks him up bridal style and grins, “taking my bride home,” he laughs as he begins running towards the mansion trying to keep their spirits up. He can make it to Bruce’s mansion before sunrise. Maybe there will be more humans around his mansion so Bruce can feed.

Usually, Bruce would’ve been angry, or at the least embarrassed, but he couldn’t summon the energy, and simply rested his head on Clint’s shoulder, letting out a soft groan.

Clint keeps running until he gets inside Bruce’s mansion and lays him on something that looks like a couch. “Do you keep blood around here?”

Bruce looks around blearily, before shaking his head, wrinkling his nose. “I’ll be…fine,” he said, huffing with pain as he moved to sit up. “G-go to the…b-basement, grab the…the silver box on my d-desk.”

Clint nods his head before he searches for the desk and finally find the silver box and brings it back to Bruce, “uh ok now what?”

Bruce fumbles with the box as it opens revealing a first aid kit. Clint rips Bruce’s shirt off to get to the wound, “why can’t you just sleep it off and heal,” he asks putting pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding, “do I add secret vampire juice to the wound to heal it or what?”

Bruce shakes his head, taking a long, deep breath and reaching out to stop Clint’s hands, pressing the gauze to his wound himself and beginning to slowly wrap it. “No…a stake wound doesn’t…doesn’t heal over night…” He makes a face once he’s done wrapping, tying it off. “It…it heals slower…n-no matter what. Just got to…keep it closed…and rest…” He tips sideways on the couch, only catching himself out of instinct. “Not the first…I’ll…I’ll survive.”

Clint rolls his eyes, “yeah grandpa I get it,” he teases, “so I can’t do anything else to help?”

Bruce makes a face, before he mutters a groan, just letting himself lay down sideways on the couch, on the opposite side from his wound.

“Just…stay?” He asked, grimacing. “I…I’m vulnerable here, I can’t be…” He swallowed, looking at Clint fearfully. “Alone.”

Clint nods his head and gets it. Being alone and vulnerable is never good and it just sucks. Plus the thousand year old vampire has grown on him. It’s like hanging out with a cool grumpy old man. It makes the night go quicker and more fun to hang out with someone than alone all the time. “Alright I’ll guard over you don’t worry just stay calm Bruce.”

Bruce nods. “Calm, I am…calm.” He takes another deep breath, before he closes his eyes, touching the bandage across his side gingerly before he curls his arms in front of himself, just a bit cold. “Thank you…Clint.”

“No problem gramps,” he teases as he leans on the couch, “now get some rest.”

Bruce nods his head, blinking slowly and yawning. “Good…day, child,” he muttered, eyes fluttering closed as the fatigue finally hit him completely. He was out like a light in moments, curled up on the couch.

Clint watches Bruce nod off and sighs sitting on the floor leaning on the couch so he’ll know if Bruce moves or not in the middle of the night. He yawns as he tries to get comfortable, “damn Bruce you need some new couches or something,” he grumbles crossing his arms over his chest as he begins to get sleepy.


	4. Teaching the Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***Warning from this point forward Clint and Bruce will be getting touchy feely with each other. However there will be no sex scenes period, except blowjobs or intimate touches like that, it will black out right before they do it.***

Once it was night time Clint stretches and gets up and grumbles. He stomach growls hungry for more food. He pops his back since sleeping upright all night guarding Bruce was difficult. He was hungry and he needed to get Bruce food first so he could heal quicker. He sighs stretching his legs before heading out the mansion to choose a clean victim. It doesn’t take as long as before. The red eye trick had done the job and now the victim was following Clint back to the mansion.

“Hey Brucie time for breakfast,” Clint chirps poking Bruce in the shoulder to wake up.

Bruce wakes up groggily, looking towards Clint with bleary eyes before he sits up, hissing with pain and holding his side. “Food?” He asks, still half asleep, fangs already out.

“Yeah food,” he says as he tells the victim to expose their neck to Bruce.

As the victim presents themselves to Bruce he leans forward, holding their arm tight as he sinks his fangs in and drinks greedily, eyes half closed.

The victim begins to slump quickly. “Bruce slow down.”

Bruce lets out a low snarl, glaring up at Clint, looking slightly feral as he pulls the human closer to him. He’s too weak to have his rationality; for now his instincts carry him.

Clint hisses at him and pulls the human away from him and hides them behind his back.

Bruce lurches forward, feeling threatened as his fangs bare themselves at Clint, and he slashes out, but the pain in his side snaps him back to himself as he tumbles off the couch and to the floor, clutching his side with a pained whimper.

Clint hisses at him before trying to help him back to the couch, “dumbass trying to eat me…” he mumbles some other things as he puts him back on the couch. He sends the human away outside the mansion hoping they will forget the incident.

He hears the human stumble down the path turning around talking about how they will not drink anymore long islands for the rest of their life. Clint chuckles before turning his attention back to Bruce.

Bruce curls back up on the couch, reaching out weakly as he rubs his head with the other hand. “You t-took my /food/,” he whines, still slightly delirious.

“You were sucking them dry and last night you said not to do that so you’re welcome,” he huffs

Bruce makes a frustrated noise, fangs exposed again. “Stupid. Hungry.” He shifts and groans. “Tired. Stupid stakes.” His speech is a bit more disjointed, even for all the pain he’s in; he was talking just fine when he was first stabbed, so it’s a bit off.

Clint guffs at Bruce, “sorry gramps I think you need your medicine just hold on and I’ll get another person no dorito man right,” he teases before leaving.

Bruce watched Clint go with another sigh, before his eyes closed while he waited, mumbling to himself.

Clint is back thirty minutes later blood on his lips as he orders another human towards Bruce.

Bruce’s eyes come open again, and he’s a bit more coherent when this person offers their throat; he lets out a huff of breath, sniffing the air, and looks to Clint, smiling tiredly. “L-learn fast, huh, kiddo,” he murmurs, before he bites into the clean-blooded throat and drinks much slower this time around.

“Yeah those who don’t learn fast die so yeah,” he shrugs, “I ate a person without your permission am I in trouble,” he teases glad to see Bruce more like himself than earlier when he first woke up.

After a long moment, the human slumps, and this time Bruce pulls away without prompting, pushing the human carefully away. “As long as you did not hurt them, that is quite alright,” he murmurs in reply sound much more coherent as he lays back down, sighing.

“Naw didn’t hurt them did the whole red eyes thing which is so much easier gramps so thanks…” he continues to ramble on about how the night was before he woke up.

Bruce watches Clint curiously as he talks, and a fond smile pulls across his lips without his bidding. The fledgling is…amusing. Useful. But mostly an interesting companion. In his vulnerable state, Bruce can’t be more glad Clint is the one watching over him.

Clint pokes Bruce, “hey gramps you spaced out you ok or do you need more blood,” he asks concerned.

Bruce blinked at Clint’s poke, jerking into focus. He’d been staring at Clint for much too long, and his face went red, glancing down. “Oh, I did not—I was thinking elsewhere,” he murmured, clearing his throat.

“You’re blushing again…what made you blush this time? I didn’t even say anything sexy or that bad,” Clint asks raising an eyebrow.

Bruce shook his head, rubbing one cheek and nearly hiding his face in the pillows of the couch. “It is nothing, you didn’t do anything,” he reassured him, trying to will himself pale once more.

“I must have done something cause all that blood is going to you face and not helping the stab wound.”

Bruce grumbled and waved a hand, hiding his face even more as he hugged his wounded side. “It was nothing; I was merely thinking, is all,” he mumbled into the pillows.

“Thinking about…oh,” he grins mind heading for the gutter, “well then shouldn’t you be getting paler if all the blood is going to your dick,” he smirks.

"Not those sorts of thoughts!" Bruce says suddenly, head jerking up so he can glare at Clint, before he goes even more red and hides his face again. "Your mind is a gutter, fledgling."

“Oh really you’re the one whose blushing thinking about those things,” he grins. “Do you really still have your whatever century you came from values? Dude it’s the 21st century.”

"I hold myself to a standard of etiquette, child; you should as well," Bruce mumbled into the pillows, huffing before he glanced up. "I am not a…sexual creature, fledgling; it is not something I discuss with people often."

“You’re a vampire isn’t the whole vampire thing supposed to be about sex? You know drinking blood of the living and you having high standards and giving the humans a high from the bite sounds kind of sexual to me,” he shrugs grinning as he sits on the floor in front of Bruce.

"It is intimacy, not sex," Bruce replied, actually looking up at Clint with confused eyes. "Vampirism is not sexual; it is lustful in someways, yes, but perhaps it varies from person to person. I know I’ve never…" He frowns, glancing away. "It has never excited me in such a manner."

“Oh…so you’re a virgin then? Nothing wrong with it, just weird for a thousand year old guy to be a virgin. Do you not like getting into a sexual relationship with anyone,” he asks curious, “they call it asexual now if you’re curious,” Clint rambles off. It’s kind of cute that Bruce is so innocent in some ways but so dangerous in others…wait cute? Oh great he’s starting to like this nerd and with liking leads to crushing and with crushing comes doom.

Bruce furrows his brow, shaking his head. “While I may be…a virgin, I have felt the desire before. It is not a common thing, though; someone must peak my interest quite a bit for I endeavor towards that goal.” He shrugs, trying to look bored, but just ending up looking slightly sad.

“Holy shit you really are a virgin? I was just guessing...sorry,” he says frowning. “So do you want help finding a vampire love or are you happy how things are now,” he asks Bruce curious.

He doesn’t know how to do the subtle ask of finding out if Bruce is single or not. Just cause he’s a virgin does not mean he’s single. He could be one of those weird ancients that is into nonsexual acts like…holding hands. Clint shudders at the thought it sounds too domestic.

Bruce looked to his hands, fingers absently prodding at the gauze around his side, before he looked up at Clint, glanced over him quickly once and darted his eyes away. “There is hardly anyone who would find me a suitable mate; I am not…I do not know how to gain someone’s affections.”

Clint watches him and huffs, “yeah right that’s the easy part it’s harder to hold onto to someone. Come on I’ll be your wingman and find you a woman or man…I don’t know which one do you want?”

Bruce made a face. “I do not have a specific preference,” he replied, shrugging. “But…where would we…find someone? I do not mingle among the other immortals often; I am not usually welcome.”

Clint shrugs, “who said they had to be immortal? You can have anyone and then reveal yourself and if they want the life of a vampire you can change them and bam you have a forever mate…just make sure he or she is not crazy or you might have to kill them sooner than you think.”

Bruce huffed a breath, shaking his head, before he sighed. “Well…perhaps,” he replied, shifting so he could sit up, side twinging a bit. “But only when I am healed. I will…allow you to try. But I highly doubt it will work.”

“Oh it will work first thing to do though is confidence you tell yourself you’re the best flirt and you’ll be surprised by how many people you can pick up like that.”

Bruce’s brow furrows. “How do I do that? I am not, in fact, a very good flirt.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve never seduced anyone without the…red eyes.”

“Simple use the same voice you use for the red eyes and use the red eye thing but don’t force them. Like you’re eyes are very open and beautiful so use them to your advantage,” he grins. “Hey why don’t you test it out on me for practice?”

Bruce listens thoughtfully, before he looks to Clint with surprise. “Try it on you?” The idea was almost appealing, though he’d never have voice as much. It was also wildly embarrassing.

“Sure why not. I’ll be able to tell when you’re laying it on too thick and stuff like that,” he smiles.

Bruce glances down with a deep breath, before he looks up and nods, shifting across the couch so he can be comfortable. “Fine. Then come here and I shall…see if it works.”

Clint shakes his head no and chuckles, “wrong you don’t tell me to sit there make me come to you without touching me come on Bruce.”

Bruce cleared his throat uncomfortably, and glanced down. He took a deep breath. “As you say.”  
He took a moment to ready himself, rubbing his eyes, before he glanced up at Clint from beneath his lashes, eyes opened wide, as he’d always done with his red eyes, except now he left them the dull brown they were originally.

His voice was low, soft. “Won’t you come and sit with me, Clint,” he asked, biting his lower lip with one fang.

Clint snorts and laughs, “sorry Bruce that was too strong the eye thing was fine but you kept doing the come hither look. Be a little more gentle and don’t bite your lip with a fang you’ll scare a human off.”

Bruce’s face goes red and he rubs his face, groaning. “I cannot do this,” he muttered. “If I had used the red you would have been mine. I do not know how to be…gentle.”

“Bruce it’s easy just be yourself and use that tone of voice and with your eyes you’re set now try again.”

Bruce rubbed his face anxiously, before he took a deep breath. “Fine,” he muttered, preparing himself once more.

He glanced up, trying to ignore his own embarrassment, and looked at Clint with wide eyes, and tried to act…a little less vampirish. “Would you join me, Clint?” He asked, softly.

Clint grins and gets up and sits next to him on the couch, “good job that was perfect and it worked.”

Bruce blinks in surprise. “It did?” He hadn’t thought it would work; he’d been prepared for Clint to laugh again. “What about it…worked?”

“Your voice was softer and you were acting more like yourself. Plus you suggested I sit with you not demanded,” he smiles, “ok next lesson what do you do after this part?”

"I…I do not know; this is usually the part where I bite someone," Bruce replied, shaking his head and looking at Clint a bit sheepishly.

“Well,” he says looking at Bruce, “this is the part where you talk about yourself and let them talk about themselves so you just need to start a conversation.” He pauses and looks at Bruce, “any day now…”

Bruce looks down, worriedly, and touches his side absently before looking back at Clint, licking his lips nervously. “I…” He clears his throat. “Well, um…” He hasn’t the slightest idea what to say, so he simply says, “My real name is Brutus.”

Clint stares at him before bursting out laughing. He can’t hold it in.

“No fucking way you’re the guy who killed Ceasar?! You know et tu Brutus?”

Bruce blinked in surprise, eyebrows rising. “Wow, they still talk about Caesar? That was /years/ ago,” he said, shaking his head. “I must not be keeping up with history books very well.”

“Holy shit you really are him,” he asked surprised, “did you really stab him in the back?”

"I had to; he would not have been staked quite so easily if it had been the chest," Bruce replied, shrugging.

“Whoa hold on a minute Caesar was a vampire? You need to tell the whole story man. Is that who turned you,” Clint asks interested.

Secretly Clint was a history dork. You had to do something in the library if you were sleeping there overnight and reading boring history books worked. Kind of backfired later on when he started to get interested in the stories history told.

Bruce laughed. “No, no, Caesar was turned by /me/,” Bruce replied, a grin pulling across his lips. “I was still young when I met him, only a hundred years old then, I believe. He was a good friend and a smart man, so I thought changing him would bring about prosperity for Rome. But he was a fool, it would seem.”

“Why would you even want to turn Caesar? Also who turned you? Are you sure it wasn’t reckless youth blood lust,” he teases.

Bruce shook his head, grinning. “I turned him because when I met him he assisted me in staying out of the sun, and I befriended him. It seemed kind to make him immortal.”

Then Bruce shook his head, wringing his hands a bit. “The one who turned me…I know very little about him. I do not even know if he still lives. It has been…centuries.”

“So you were turned by surprise,” he snorts, “pun intended. Well ditto for me too except me I killed my sire.”

"He saved me, actually," Bruce replied, distantly, before he looked to Clint, blinking. "You…/killed/ your sire?" He asked, eyes wide.

“Yes…is that a bad thing to do? I was pissed he bit me I didn’t know what was happening so I stabbed him. He was a swordsman.”

"No wonder you are so uneducated in our ways," Bruce said, looking surprised and upset. "You had no one to teach you." He shook his head. "I understand why you killed him, I just cannot imagine beginning a life like this with…nothing, not even my sire to lean on."

“Yeah well I learned fast enough what I need to do to survive so I’m good,” he says forcing a smile still bitter about being turned so young.

"I am glad," Bruce replied, nodding. "Still, without that first mentor…I surely would not have survived to today. In fact, I would not have survived another /year/ as a human, let alone thousands of years as a vampire."

“What were you mauled by a bear or why were you dying that you thought hey being a monster the rest of my life sounds great,” he says bitterly.

Bruce’s fingers went up to trail a small, hardly visible scar at the edge of his cheek. “I was being murdered, actually,” he replied, softly, an expression of sadness on his face. “I did not choose to be saved, but…I was. He killed my father and he saved me from a slow, painful death from disease and infection.”

“That was nice of him so your dad was a dickhead too then huh,” Clint states. He’s dealt with his fair share of dad issues.

Bruce’s eyes unfocused, and he didn’t speak for some moments. “He was…an unpleasant man.”  
And then he looked to Clint, furrowing his brow. “Was your father…unkind?” He asks, looking upset by the very idea of someone hurting the fledgling.

He shrugs, “he was a drunk who hit my mom, my brother, and me. He made me deaf but that got healed with the vampire thing. He rammed the car in a tree killed mom and him instantly. Brother and I went to an orphanage it was terrible so we ran to the circus it was good for a while then the swordsman killed my brother then turned me and the rest is history.”

Bruce blinks in surprise throughout the admission, before reaching out to touch Clint’s hand gently. “I am sorry; your pains are still so fresh, I cannot imagine. Sorry to have brought it up at all.”

Clint pulls his hand back out of his grip not wanting to be comforted, “yeah yeah give me a few hundred years and I’ll be better. So this is not dating conversation you can’t say right off the back you’re a vampire.”

Bruce pulls his hand back to himself and looks down, frowning. “Then what should I say? I have not much else to speak of that would interest any mates.”

“Just modernize your story a bit. Like a lot of people have shitty dads you don’t have to say he almost killed you but use that and just modernize it.”

"Oh." Bruce nods, keeping his eyes down. A modern story of his past? He was not sure if that would gain anyone’s affections. But he /had/ lied about himself for centuries now; he was sure he could do it. "Alright; I can do that."

“Yeah just don’t make it too extravagant or they’ll see right through your lies,” he smiles.

"I am at least good at lying," Bruce replied, sighing softly. "That should not be a problem." He looked at Clint thoughtfully, cocking his head to the side. "What about you, fledgling. Are you going to find yourself a mate?"

“Maybe? I don’t know yet haven’t thought much about dating. Only thoughts have been about getting blood,” he shrugs.

Bruce nods in understanding. A vampire of Clint’s age wouldn’t think of things beyond blood. Bruce knew he hadn’t. “I see,” was all he said, shifting to absently lean back on the couch.

“Are you mad? Look if I want someone I’ll find them but I don’t want to turn them because that would be worse than marriage there’s no vampire divorcees are there,” he laughs. “Besides I might not act like it but I do want someone who will be there more than just fucking. Something solid, something good, you know someone I can’t wait to come home to…and that sounds really corny,” he chuckles face becoming pink.

Bruce shakes his head, smiling briefly. “No, I am not angry,” he replies, smile slipping a bit. “Merely thinking. Once I am healed we may…try this, but for now I must get better.” He shifts in his seat, making a face, before he moves to stand, hissing through his teeth. “I have work I must attend for now; you need not bother yourself with keeping me company for now.” He limps towards the door to his basement. “I am sure you would rather be out hunting until the sun rises, than listening to me blather on.”

“Yeah I’m fine I ate before bringing your second victim back here plus you don’t look like you can stand now gramps,” he grins helping him, “also since when do vampires have work?”

"Since vampires discovered that sitting around doing nothing is boring," Bruce replied, huffing at Clint’s assistance, but accepting it anyway. "I work on…scientific inquiries. It helps pass the years."

“Oh yeah you’re a doc right?”

"Yes. Well, not just a doctor. Many other lines of work as well." He was careful on the stairs, and once they reached his lab he made his way to his desk. "Nuclear physics, astrology, bio-feedback…lots of things."

“Hmm…were you a nerd before or after you got turned,” he laughs. “Aw come on Bruce I’m only teasing you,” he chuckles, “it’s cool that you’re smart.”

Bruce rolls his eyes, moving carefully until he can sit in the chair at his desk, carefully rolling it with one leg so he can reach a notebook on another desk. “We believed gods and monsters made us ill for petty amusement in my time; it was long, long after I was turned that I became a ‘nerd’.”

“Well at least you’re a cute nerd,” he lets slip out before changing the subject quickly, “so Greek or Roman,” he asks him, “I’m guessing you were one of those but it kind of wouldn’t explain why you’ve been a virgin so long. Weren’t they really into orgies and stuff like that?”

Bruce blushes slightly at the compliment. He becomes thoughtfully, quiet for a moment, as he flipped through his notebook. “Originally I cannot recall where I was from…I know that my sire brought me to Palestine after my creation, and then from there we traveled to Rome.” He wrinkled his nose a bit. “I was not very keen on traveling about in the times…um, lustful activities. It did, however, give me plenty of opportunity to hunt without notice, seeing how…intimate the bite can seem to most. They leave you alone if they spot you with someone in an alley, at least.”

Clint grins, “you were a tease then,” he gets an idea, “that can work to your advantage actually as long as you do it at the right moment.”

Bruce raised a brow, lifting his eyes from his notebook and wheeling himself towards his desk once more. “How could that work? I’m not sure I understand.” He set down his notebook, grabbing a pencil. “Won’t that just anger them?”

“That’s why you have to do it at the right moment. You tease them just a little so they call you back and then go from there.”

"So you’ve done all of this before, then?" Bruce asked, writing something in the notebook before turning to a computer screen and booting it up beneath a few taps of his fingers. "The seduction, thing, I mean."

“Yeah man I’m a twenty two year old guy…well permanently twenty but anyway I’ve done the whole seduction thing and been around the block  on both sides of the street so no big deal.”

Bruce snorted. “Well, it would certainly seem so; I was merely curious, is all.” He reaches for a pair of glasses at the edge of his desk, side twinging painfully before he flicks them open, sliding them on.

“Are you calling me a slut,” he asks defensive, “fuck you four eyes,” he says walking away.

Bruce blinks in surprise, glancing up to where Clint was walking off, taken aback. “I implied no such thing!” He calls after him, kicking his foot so his chair could roll quickly away from his desk.

“Bullshit you just assumed I’ve slept with everyone when you said that,” he yells at him.

Clint hates going off the handle. He hates it. He thought Bruce would have been different or at least up with this century. Guys having large conquests and many lovers were praised upon if they were women. So what if he slept around with a few dudes. Most of the time it was just sex but sometimes it was just feeling a warm body next to him in the middle of the night and feeling secure.

"That is not what I meant at all!" Bruce yells back, brow furrowed in irritation. "I was simply saying that your experience is prevalent in how you act, you idiotic fledgling! I would never disrespect you in such a manner!"

He moved to stand from his chair, gritting his teeth, so he could at least be on eye level with Clint when he was being shouted at.

“Stop lying and just tell me that you called me a slut,” he says unsure he was unsure what Bruce had just said to him. He wasn’t dumb but some of the words he had never heard.

Bruce is careful as he advances on Clint, a furrow in his brow. “Clint, please,” he said, holding his side and frowning at the man. “I would not say such a thing. You know how to flirt and seduce, while I do not; that was all I meant. I meant that I could tell you have dated before.”

“Seriously,” he asks looking at him, “that’s what you meant?”

"I swear it," Bruce replied, looking at Clint earnestly. "I respect you; I would not insult you in such a manner."

Clint looks him in the eye examining Bruce for the slightest lie on his face, “ok for now… just…just don’t imply it next time alright gramps.”

Bruce let’s out a sigh of relief, before he moves back to sit heavily in his chair. “I won’t,” is all he says as he shoves his rolling chair back to his desk. The ordeal had been a bit tiring; he’d have to remember not to anger Clint, lest he leave for good.

“So are you just going to do science stuff the rest of the night?”

"Did you wish anything else of me?" Bruce asked, looking to Clint curiously. "I did not want to bother you if you’d rather be elsewhere, and I have nothing else to pass my time."

“Not really? I’m just bored and want to do something but I don’t know what. Can you teach me more vampire things?”

Bruce’s eyes light up a bit. “More vampire things?” He smiles, softly. “I can do that; I know all the tricks.”

“Ok so teach me something cool,” he smiles standing by Bruce, “can we really turn into bats or is that Hollywood stuff?”

"It is a very…difficult trick, shifting shapes," Bruce replied, shaking his head. "Bats, I have never learned to do. My sire could do it, but I could not figure out how to break myself apart so completely. I find a wolf is far easier to maintain."

“Vampires can shift into wolves, since when,” he asks crossing his arms surprised.

"Since…" Bruce shrugged. "Forever? It is not the same as werewolves, of course, but in the shadows at night, if the moon is darkened enough, if you focus on the shifting of the shadows around you, it is possible to shift into many things; you need only imagine yourself as such."

“So I could shift myself into a hot babe with huge boobs? Dude I would so get my blood easier that way,” he laughs.

"I don’t…think it works like that," Bruce said, shaking his head, though he smiled fondly. "No, um, it only works for animal shapes, I’m afraid."

“So you’re telling me I could be a vampiric cow then,” his eyes widen excited to try it out.

Bruce’s brow furrowed slightly. “Um…well, technically, yes.” He frowned. “I don’t know /why/ you’d want to be a…cow, but I /guess/ you could…”

“So I can go up to a farmer and say in a creepy voice to milk me…come on that would be funny Bruce,” he pouts.

Bruce looks at Clint, still confused for a long moment, before a smile pulls across his face and he snickers, softly. “Clint, you are a foolish thing. Silly, like a child.”

“I’m not a child Bruce I just like to prank people,” he huffs crossing his arms.

Bruce can’t help smiling even more, chuckling and shaking his head. “I mean no insult. It is…cute.”

Clint grins, “aw grandpa thinks I’m cute.” He gets closer to him and sits in his lap, “read me a story,” he says pouting, “I’m not hurting your chest am I,” he asks about to jump off Bruce’s lap in a second if he is hurting.

Bruce blinks, startled by the sudden proximity to one Clint and his /lap/, and he looks away, flustered. “I am not hurting,” he mumbles, glad his system has processed the blood enough to keep him from blushing.

“Good then tell me a bedtime story gramps,” he teases him sitting in his lap like a kid.

"Wh-what, ahem, what story would you like?" Bruce asks, thinking that if he just goes along with Clint’s idiocies he’ll have him off of his lap faster. He’s much too close to certain…assets.

He squirms in Bruce’s lap on purpose seeing his discomfort, “hmm how about Goldilocks?”

Bruce fights the urge to cross his legs, or find a way to get Clint off of him. He clears his throat, hands gripping the arm rests of his chair. “I, um; I can do that one,” he says, trying to sound as normal as possible.

Clint grins and decides to not squirm in his lap for now, “ok so start the story,” he says a little impatient.

Bruce just sighs at Clint’s insistence and starts his story, feeling stupid. “Once upon a, uh, time, there was a girl…um, walking in the woods, looking for her home and she was, um, very lost.”

“How lost were they,” he asks poking Bruce in the shoulder.

"/Very/ lost," Bruce replied, rolling his eyes. "So lost she couldn’t remember which way was up and which way was down, until she saw a nice little cabin in the woods with a chimney full of smoke and no one around it for miles."

“Cool did she rob the place steal their money and cools clothes,” he asks moving in Bruce’s lap getting comfortable.

Bruce makes a surprised noise at Clint’s squirming, trying to keep a straight face. “A-ah, no, she, um, she went into the house to see if anyone was home, but instead of people she found three bowls of porridge.”

“Cool fact porridge is gross,” he said making a face, “so what she do next?”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Well, Goldilocks likes porridge. So she goes over to the biggest bowl and takes a bite, but burns her tongue because it’s too hot.”

“If she knew the porridge was supposed to be hot why didn’t she blow on it,” he asks rubbing on Bruce again grinning.

Bruce made a strangled sound, voice pitching a bit high. “B-because she thought since it was sitting there it would be c-c-cooler.” He took a deep breath. “And then she went to the o-other bowl, the medium sized one, and it was too /cold/.”

Clint grins before faking a frown and rubbing his hand up Bruce’s shirt, “aw it was too cold for her?”

Bruce’s heart did beat, for all it didn’t pump blood, and now his heart beat double-time as he looked anywhere but at Clint’s hand. “Y-yes, too, ahem, too cold. She, um, m-moved onto the last one, the, uh, the smallest,” he went on quickly face flustered. “And found it was, ah, /just/ right.”

“Hmm just right you say,” he says licking his lips as he looks into Bruce’s eyes.

Bruce’s eyes widen slightly, and he shifts back in his chair, blinking, before his eyes dart away and he ducks his head. “Y-yes, just right.”

“Hmm then what did she do,” he asks teasing him.

"She, uh, she ate the rest of the littlest porridge," Bruce murmured, not looking at Clint now. "And then she moved on to find three rocking chairs in the living room. A big one, medium one, and a small one."

“Oh yeah,” he grins as he begins to rock in Bruce’s lap, “what did she do in them?”

Bruce’s breath stutters, and he bites his lip for a split second, fighting the interest his body was trying to show. “Sh-she, she was, um; sh-she sat in the b-biggest chair and found it was too h-hard for her.”

“Too hard for her? You mean like you are now,” he teases.

Bruce’s face went pale with embarrassment and he looked down, flustered as he huffed out a breath through his nose. “I—I am not—I—/you/—” He cuts off, brow furrowed as he all but pouts.

“And that’s too much teasing right there lesson over,” he grins before patting him on the back, “dude you have such strong will power it’s awesome.”

Bruce looks up at him, confused, before it dawns on him. “Oh; you were showing me how to…’tease’?” His brow quirked in bewilderment, before he looked away, making a face of displeasure. Well that felt almost…disappointing.

“Well kind of,” he says rubbing the back of his head becoming flustered, “I was trying to annoying you in the beginning, then I was teasing you and then it became fun to do…in a good way not in a haha way you know what I mean?”

Bruce cocks his head at him, confused. “You…enjoyed teasing me?” He wasn’t quite sure he understood. If not in the ‘haha’ way, as he’d said, than in what way would he have enjoyed it?

“Yeah it was fun and nice to do. You’re an easy guy to tease but difficult to get a big reaction from so I liked it,” he said simply.

Bruce’s fang chewed absently at his lower lip, nervous. “Oh,” he all but whispered. “O-okay.” He wasn’t sure how to respond at all, not since he was pretty sure he’d enjoyed Clint’s teasing too much. And it didn’t really /fit/, Bruce was old and grumpy and flustered, while Clint was young and handsome and bright. If teasing was something someone interested in flirting with someone did, than Bruce was absolutely lost as to why Clint would enjoy doing it to him.

Clint frowns, “wow that was a shitty response what did I do wrong,” he chuckles to blow it off.

"No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just—" Bruce huffs a breath, eyes still wide and flustered, before he glances down and mumbles. "It was not…unpleasant."

Clint smirks, “no shit I felt you though your pants but I must have done something wrong. Did you not like me doing that to you? Did you want someone else?”

"No, no one else," Bruce murmured, still biting his lip, hands wringing anxiously together. "You…I…I was merely…unused to such advances. I am…flustered."

“Meaning what? No one’s ever hit on you or you want to date me,” he asks bluntly.

Bruce blinks wide eyes over at Clint. “I…” He doesn’t know what to say, still wringing his hands.”Per…Perhaps a yes to both?”

“Huh…ok,” he says shrugging, “we can try it out but I doubt I’m your forever mate,” he grins.

Bruce lets out a nervous chuckle of his own, shaking his head. “I…I don’t believe in forever mates. So…I suppose that would work for the both of us.”

“Oh ok cool…so what do vampires do for dates?”

"Uh…I am the thousand year old virgin, yes? I don’t know." Bruce made a face, shrugging nervously. "I’ve only ever seen vampires…dine together on the humans. Sometimes each other. I do not know if they /have/ regular ‘dates’."

“Wait for a thousand years you’ve never been on a date? What about Caesar and stuff? What did you like to do to hang out and stuff? It doesn’t have to be a romantic dinner it can be something really simple.”

Bruce shrugged. “It never really presented itself as important. With friends I would…read to them, or perhaps go for long walks and speak with them. People often liked my voice, so I always ended up speaking, mostly, on outings.”

“You do have a good voice,” he says agree with him. “You could do a real good dirty voice with practice,” he grins. “Aw man the sun is almost here. I’m taking you out tonight alright let’s just get some rest for the rest of the night.”

Bruce ducked his head, before he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, there’s a, um, bed,” he said, gesturing towards a trundle at the far end of the room. “You can use it. I will…work for a bit longer.”

“Seriously? Bruce you need to go to sleep gramps.”

Bruce shrugs. “I will be alright. You rest; I’ll sleep shortly.”

He huffs, “fine gramps don’t blame me when you’re passed out on the table and the sun is baking you to death…weird question has a vampire ever been made into jerky?”

Bruce’s brow furrowed in confusion, and he stared over towards Clint. “Jerky? As in what you make from /cows/?” He rolls his eyes. “No. Not that I am aware of. Now go to sleep, Clint; I will be fine.”

“Pssh fine gramps,” he says heading for the darken bedroom to sleep.

Bruce watches him go from the corner of his eye, and once he’s gone sits back in his chair and rubs his hands over his face. What in god’s name is he doing, messing with this /fledgling/?


	5. Not A Ghoul A Minion

Clint begins to snore as he sleeps on Bruce’s bed and roll over in the sheets.

Bruce tries to pay attention to his research, he really does, but soon enough his thoughts are wandering to Clint and he knows he’ll be useless for the rest of the night, so he secures his blinds for the coming day and, instead of climbing the stairs to the couch or disturbing Clint, he curls up in his rolling chair, side twinging, and goes to sleep.

Clint yawns as he wakes up fangs extending as he rolls over in the bed and frowns, “wonder where Bruce is.” He gets up and makes his way downstairs and glares at the desk. “The hell gramps I told you, you would pass out on the desk,” he says leaning on Bruce’s rolling chair. “Bet your back is sore.”

Bruce startles awake at Clint’s entrance, fangs out before he even opens his eyes, before he groggily looks at Clint and blinks. “Oh,” is all he says, yawning once, before he arches his back in his chair, spine popping, and sighs with relief. His wound is almost healed, too.  
“I’ve certainly slept in worse places,” he murmurs, blinking over at Clint tiredly.

“Yeah yeah but you don’t need to be agitating your wound,” he tssked at him waving a finger, “so what type of victim you want tonight?”

Bruce smiles softly at his scolding, before he leans back in his chair, thoughtfully. He has the perfect victim in mind, but he hasn’t gone to them in some months; he can’t send Clint out alone after them.  
“I know what I want, if you’re willing to fetch me a cane; I have a very specific hunger tonight.”

“Hey I can handle it just throw the red eyes at them. Who is it?”

"A man by the name of Stark. He’s a scientist in the area, who I feed on from time to time." Bruce’s lips quirk up with amusement. "He’s been known to break the hold of the red eyes, though; I would be careful if I were you."

“I’ll just give him a swift kick to the nuts or tackle him if the eyes don’t work completely. Is he a human friend of yours?”

"You could say friend," Bruce replied, shrugging a bit, a small smile on his lips. "Just tell him Bruce sent you, if he tries to run. That might work."

“Ok got it what’s he look like? Do you have a picture or something of his I can sniff out?”

Bruce pauses thoughtful, before he opens his desk drawer and tugs out a notebook, thick with coffee stains and torn edges and scorch marks. “This is his. I’m sure you can track his scent from it. Just don’t…kill him. I need him.”

“Don’t kill him got it,” he says sniffing the book, “ok got his scent be back soon.” Clint uses his nose to begin tracking Tony Stark.

Bruce waves him quickly goodbye and gets to his own work.

In the meantime, Tony Stark sits in a bar, legs propped up as he flirts shamelessly with the bartender.

Clint sniffs picking up the scent from a bar. He sigh as he enters sniffing the area before spotting the man flirting with the bartender. He taps him on the shoulder, “hey Tony Bruce needs you tonight.”

Tony startles in his chair, turning around quick as a flash, drink in hand. “Woah, buddy; who the fuck are you?”

“You’re worst nightmare,” he says rolling his eyes and hissing at him, “Bruce needs to see you right now you know he does the whole red eyes trick thing. Ring a bell yet?”

Tony steps back a bit, narrowing his eyes. “I know who Bruce is. I asked who /you/ were. Bruce doesn’t have friends. He doesn’t like other…things. Why did he have to send you?”  
Tony pauses, hardly waiting for an answer. “He’s hurt, isn’t he? What happened? How long ago?” His questions are quick and he doesn’t pause for breath as he speaks, setting his drink aside.

“I’m Clint. Yes he’s hurt. Stray hunter came on his turf got stabbed and it happened yesterday,” he said walking with Tony. “So are you his permanent blood donor?”

"I’m his work partner," Tony said, rubbing the back of his neck, where two circular scars rested. "He’s usually very careful. How did he manage to get caught up with a hunter?"

“Uh it might have been following me that night and Bruce was in the way so yeah…hey are you a ghoul or something? Vampires have ghouls who do their bidding right?”

"I’m not a ghoul," Tony replies, rolling his eyes. "I’m a friend. Which you, apparently, are not; also, you just /led/ a hunter there? And Bruce didn’t kill you?" Tony shook his head. "He’s getting soft, then."

“I am too a friend…we’re supposed to have a date tonight but he needed you for something.”

"A date?" Tony tossed his head back and laughed. "I can’t imagine /Banner/, the least romantic creature in the world, going on a date. He’s turned me down more times than I can /count/."

“Funny you must have been a lousy charmer then,” he grins at Tony.

Tony scowls, glaring at Clint. “I’ll have you know I am a great goddamn charmer. He said he wasn’t interested in a relationship. At all. Now I’m wondering if he was just trying to spare my feelings…”

“Huh that sounds like Bruce being nice so you don’t get hurt. So how long have you both known each other? Are you human still,” he asks poking the marks on Tony’s neck, “You have bite marks on your neck so I’m confused if you’re his servant or just a regular human friend.”

Tony shrugged pushing Clint’s hand away. There is no way on earth Bruce finds this fiend attractive. It’s like caring for a touchy feeling child. “Well, I’ve known him for a year and a half, now. I’m…” He grumbled. “I’m /technically/ a servant, but I’m still human. A bit of a contract to keep me alive without the blood thirsty part.”

“Whoa cool…he’s still teaching me stuff like last night I learned the red eyes cause I use to just pounce on people and drink them dry cause I’m thirsty a lot like right now,” he grins at Tony trying to scare him for fun.

Tony just sticks his tongue out at him. “You don’t scare me, kiddo; you can practically smell the inexperience on you. Besides, Bruce doesn’t want me to drink, and he’d be pissed if you tried to. Now /he’s/ someone I can be scared of.”

“He’s not that scary,” he says rubbing the back of his head as they arrive outside the mansion.

Tony laughed. “Bruce, not scary? Have you /seen/ him? When he’s pissed? He’s absolutely horrifying.”

“Yeah he got pissed at me but I stole his stake so he couldn’t stake me,” he grins opening the door, “hey Bruce Tony is here.”

Bruce glances up from his work, where he was absently tapping away at his computer, and when he spots Tony his teeth flash in a grin. “Tony; glad you came.”

Tony seems to pause in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing. “Well, what is it you need? A new algorithm? An ingredient to a mixture?” He steps further inside as Bruce wheels his chair over.

“No, no, I need that formula, I can’t remember it.”

“Oh yeah that formula,” Tony says, “yeah Bruce do you know how many formulas run through my mind a day you’ll have to be a little more specific than that.”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, rolling his chair over and grabbing Tony’s arm. “Just come here so I can get to.” He tugs Tony down, before he looks to Clint, smirking. “Another trick; bite in /just/ the right place, and you can access memories in people, humans and vampires alike.”

Tony grumbles as he is pulled down, “I hate when you suck the blood and do the memory thing,” he says angling his neck for easier access for Bruce.

“You can gain memories from them? How?”

"The spine," Bruce murmured, tapping gently at the back of Tony’s neck. "It gives a direct connection to the memories in the brain. It’s not an air-tight science, but that’s how I understand it."  
Bruce closed his eyes, fangs coming out as he bit into Tony, brow furrowed in concentration as he did.

Tony freezes as Bruce bites him, “ouch why can this never be more gentle.”

“Cause it’s fangs,” Clint laughs and watches Bruce.

Bruce drinks, slowly and carefully, face pinched, before he pulls off, eyes still closed as he licks his lips. He opens his eyes slowly, releasing Tony. “You complain too much,” he murmured huskily, before he smiled and rolled his chair back, snatching up his notebook. “Thank you, Tony. I needed that.”

“Yeah sure no problem,” he says slurring a bit, “so what’s the memory doc?”

"A formula for my sun mixture," Bruce replied, pushing Tony towards a chair. "Sit, before you pass out like last time." He chuckled, turning towards his computer.

“Pssh a sun mixture? What are you making vampire sunscreen. Who’s going to be the dummy to test that one,” Clint asks.

Bruce glanced over at Clint, before he rolled his eyes. “I’d say you, but I wouldn’t risk it on you,” he said, typing something up quickly. “I’ll be going out to get an immortal in the coming week; I have a few enemies who need getting rid of.”

“Oh cool can I help,” he asks grinning.

“Bruce leave me out of it,” says Tony slouching in the chair.

Bruce grins at Tony, wicked. “Oh, don’t worry, you don’t have to be bothered, Tony.” He glanced to Clint, raising a brow. “But I would like your help. You’re younger; you could be helpful.”

“Oh yeah the younger man wins again,” he teases at Tony, “so what ya need me to do Bruce?”

"Well, I still need to work on my formula, but I’ll need you to help me in capturing him. I /will/ be there; I’ll be fully healed by then. But he is…strong." Bruce made a face, clearly annoyed. "Stronger than me. So…help would be appreciated."

“No problem Bruce I can take him out easy,” he grins as Tony rolls his eyes.

Bruce rolls his eyes as well, but smiles fondly at Clint. “Good, good. Always good to have young one’s around, I suppose.”

Clint nods his head enthusiastically, “so who are we hunting tomorrow?”          

"An old friend," Bruce mutters, a bit bitterly. "His names…Ross. We’ve been having problems for a few hundred years now. I think I’ll be able to handle him with a bit of help, though."

“Hey if you need a long distance shot I’m your man just give me a bow and some arrows,” he grins.

Bruce cocks a brow. “You can shoot an arrow? Interesting…” He shakes his head, smiling. “No, I need him alive…for now. I can’t very well test it if he’s dead, now can I?”

“I can always distract him or piss him off enough he can’t concentrate.”

"That would be nice," Bruce replied, absently typing something onto his computer, before he turned in his chair towards Clint. "Just…don’t listen to him. He has a power of persuasion that I don’t possess. People like to listen to him."

“No problem I’ll plug in some tunes and listen to them instead,” he grins.

"You kids these days, with your fancy toys," Bruce mutters, fondly, shaking his head. "But, good. That’ll keep him from taking you." He pauses, frowning. "He’s got a few minions. So we might have to watch out for those."

“Aw gramps no,” he teases, “hey can I eat his minions or will I get sick from their blood?”

"They won’t taste very good," Bruce replied, shrugging. "Not to you, at least, seeing how young you are. But you /can/ eat them."

“What are they going to taste like sour wine? What will they taste like?”

Bruce looks thoughtful for a moment. “They taste…” He furrows his brow, looking for the word. “They taste like possessions. Like…like they’re owned. Used. It’s not sour, it’s bitter.” He shakes his head. “As in, while I find Tony’s blood appealing, you would find it foul, because it is claimed by me.”

“Holy shit so that’s what you are,” he grins at Tony, “you’re his bitch,” he laughs.

Bruce shakes his head, smirking. “Tony, once more trying to lie about being mine. How rude; you would think you were ungrateful.”

Tony just makes a face at Bruce, sticking his tongue out at Clint. “I’m not a damn minion.”

“Aw ain’t that cute you’re not a minion you’re just his minion,” he teases Tony as he pats him on the cheek. “So how do you make minions?”

"You have to feed from them many times," Bruce replied, rolling his eyes at Tony’s childish pouting. "After, say, weeks, maybe months, you give them a drop or two of your own blood, and they are yours."

“So I have to spend a month biting on the same guy and give them my blood later cool. How did Tony become your minion? I don’t think a lot of humans would want to be that.”

"Tony didn’t have much of a choice; he was dying." Bruce shrugged, glancing over at his minion, who grumbled, frowning. “A poison in his blood…I offered him life, if only he served me. My blood cured him.”

“Who poisoned you,” he asks bluntly at Tony.

"My science," Tony grumbled, frowning. "Apparently certain chemicals bleed through skin cells and into the blood system. Who knew?"

“I didn’t know that. Huh I would have been in the same boat. Good thing Bruce was there to save you cause poisoned blood tastes disgusting.”

"Yeah, real lucky; now I get to be his pet," Tony grumbles, kicking his feet up on the table, only to have Bruce knock them off, rolling his eyes.

“You’re extra pouty tonight. Did I interrupt a hot date, or did I bite too hard?”

“I cock blocked him at the bar. He wanted to bang the bartender,” Clint says taking a seat on the couch legs kicked up.

Bruce rolls his eyes. “He’s always trying to ‘bang’ the bartender,” Bruce replied, snickering. “Tony, please, restrain yourself; I really don’t want you coming in here smelling of an STD any time soon.”

“Hey, I’m safe! Shut up, you thousand year old virgin!”

“Hey knock it off Tony. You can go back to the bar and catch an STD with the bartender. Leave Bruce alone.”

"I’ll say whatever I want; Bruce is a thousand year old virgin who likes to talk a lot of shit," Tony snarks back, putting his feet up on Bruce’s desk, to Bruce’s annoyance.

“Tony, quiet,” Bruce sighs frustrated. He’s acting like a toddler.

“Can I eat him Bruce,” Clint grins fangs extending, “it has been a while since my last feeding.”

Bruce shakes his head, batting at Tony’s feet. “No, Clint, you can’t eat my minion,” he replies, chuckling at the look on Tony’s face as he stares over at Clint. “Maybe you can nibble at him, but I need him, as idiotic as he is.”

“Nibbling sounds fun,” he grins fangs sticking out as he speeds over by Tony’s side to freak him out. “Hmm can I drink from your same puncture wounds or is that a taboo,” he asks running his finger over Tony’s neck.”

Tony shivers, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Bruce sits back in his chair, watching with interest. “Hm, I don’t mind, as long as it’s you.”

Clint grins before quickly biting on Tony’s neck and sucking his blood for a few minutes before pulling back, “huh so that’s what minions taste like. Do they all taste like coconut?”

Tony slumps back in his seat, groaning, and Bruce can’t help a wicked grin. “No…But I suppose the taste changes from person to person.” He chuckles, glancing over Tony’s bloody bite mark. “Stop complaining, Tony; it could be worse.”

Clint grins blood still on his fangs and teeth, “yeah I could have drained you dry.”

Tony let’s out a whimper, and Bruce watches Clint with interest, before he beckons him, his grin wide and mischievous. “Come to me, before you kill my minion, fledgling,” he murmurs, chuckling.

Clint grins and hisses at Tony  suddenly before going over to stand by Bruce, “I wasn’t going to kill him. I was just playing with him a bit.”

"I know," Bruce murmurs, smiling languidly, before he beckons Clint closer to where he sits. "Closer; don’t make me stand."

Clint grins and sits in his lap again, “are we doing a repeat of Goldilocks gramps,” he smirks.

Bruce’s smirk is devilish. “No,” he murmurs, leaning forward and brushing his bottom lip across the side of Clint’s mouth, before pulling back and licking the drop of blood he’d captured. “I’m simply cleaning up your mess.”

Clint flushes, “oh it’s a licking game is it? Am I the kitten and you’re the mama cat come to clean me up,” he teases.

"You could say that," Bruce murmurs, lifting his hands to grip Clint’s hips, leaning forward clean away another drop of blood, eyes locked on Clint’s. "You’re a very messy eater."

Clint smirks down at him squirming, “I aim to please, freckles.”

Bruce’s lips twitch until his fangs are exposed, and he moves to nibble playfully at Clint’s throat. “Good to know.”

Tony squirms in his chair, slurring. “Y’all’re gross. Goin’t’a sleep. Fuckin’ vampires.” He rolls over in the chair, still grumbling.

Clint lets out a moan ignoring Tony’s comment and purrs, “you said you were a virgin…liar,” he teases.

Bruce’s lips trail up to the shell of Clint’s ear, puffing hot air against it, smirking. “I am…but I am also a fast learner.” His fingers dig a bit tighter into Clint’s hips, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

Clint shivers when Bruce blows on his ear, “oh yeah and who taught you all these moves Romeo,” he teases as he squirms in Bruce’s lap. Turnabout is fair play.

"I’ve seen it done," he murmurs, grunting as Clint squirms in his lap, letting his fangs graze over the fledgling’s throat carefully as he smirked. "I wondered if I could…tease you properly."

Clint hisses, “why don’t you take me to the bedroom and find out,” he grins as he kisses Bruce on the lips.

Bruce kisses him back, trailing his fingers up Clint’s back. “Is that what you want?” He asks when he pulls back, voice husky and low, gaze heated. “To be in my bed…” He pauses, mouthing the side of Clint’s jaw. “So I can tease you?”

Clint bites down on Bruce’s lip and tugs it gently. He moans a little when Bruce’s mouths the side of his neck, “it would be easier to move around,” he slides his hands down Bruce chest to his pants and tugs on the loops where the belt should be, “and have some fun Bruce.”

Bruce let’s out a soft breath, hungrily tasting the side of Clint’s throat, before he moves his grip to Clint’s hips once more, standing abruptly and gripping him against him. “As you wish,” he murmurs, still kissing along his throat carefully.

Clint grins and wraps his legs around Bruce’s waist and gasps, “oh my you’re so strong Brucie,” he teases.

Bruce rumbles a laugh, breath hot as he moves up to claim Clint’s lips once more as they walk. “I’m the strongest,” he mumbles, red eyes flashing for a moment.

Clint slaps him in the back of the head, “no red eyes just your sexy brown eyes got it gramps,” he tells him.

Bruce growls, before he grins, kicking the door to his room open and practically tossing Clint onto the bed. “Whatever you say, fledgling…”

Clint bounces on the bed when Bruce throws him and growls at him fangs extended, “get over here now gramps.”

Bruce is on the bed, faster than a blink, straddling Clint’s waist and pinning his arms above his head. “Still gramps?” He asked, snickering as he bent to nip his fangs at Clint’s wrists.

“I don’t know yet,” he hisses as Bruce nips at his wrists, “maybe you should convince me gramps,” he grins smugly.

Bruce gave a soft growl, holding Clint’s hands down with one hand as he gripped his chin with another, holding his head in place as he kissed him fiercely, hips grinding down against him.

Clint moans and squirms under Bruce before he finds Bruce’s rhythm and begins to grind with him. He nips at Bruce’s throat and grins.

When Clint begins to match his pace Bruce’s grip on Clint’s wrist tighten, and he closes his eyes, murmuring a weak, pleased whimper before he bites the side of Clint’s neck, suddenly and gently, and licks away the small amount of blood that flows.

Clint loses his breath and gasps in pleasure when Bruce bites his neck and drinks his blood. He growls at Bruce before sinking his fangs into Bruce’s neck while he gentle grips Bruce’s crotch. He grins pulling back from his neck, “something woke up from it’s nap.”

Bruce’s voice is a rasp of pleasure in his throat, and he rests his forehead against Clint’s shoulder, panting as he bucks down against Clint’s hand. “They usually say let sleeping dragons lie,” he hissed, laughing breathlessly as he kissed along the crook of Clint’s throat and shoulder.

Clint hisses, “yeah I think this dragon wants out,” he grins groping him through his pants, “does he want to play Brucie,” he teases.

Bruce’s hips jerk again, and this time he growls, fangs grazing over Clint’s skin. “You could say that,” he purrs, moving up to pass his lips, as light as feathers, over Clint’s own. “The real question is; could you take it?” He smirks, running a hand down Clint’s chest, moving over his crotch, ghosting.

Clint hisses in pleasure, “yeah I could take it…do you want to go all the way then?” He didn’t want to pressure Bruce into it and they could always do some heavy petting and fondling instead. Hell touching Bruce’s body skin on skin would be great right now.

Bruce pauses, if only for a moment, fangs pulled back so he can kiss gently at the corner of Clint’s throat. “Not all the way; not tonight,” he murmurs, before he cups Clint through his pants, grinning. “But close enough.”

“Hmm,” he says smiling, “take your pants off,” he says squirming underneath him, “hey let me go so I can get my pant off.”

Bruce shifts his weight off of Clint’s hips, shifting to shove his own pants down, one hand pressing down on Clint’s chest. “Quickly, quickly,” he murmured, grinning teasingly.

Clint squirms underneath Bruce and shimmies out of his pants quickly before grabbing Bruce’s shirt ends, “hmm I wonder what I’ll find if I take this off,” he grins pulling Bruce’s shirt.

"Scars and freckles," Bruce supplied with a breathless laugh as he began to unbutton his own shirt quickly, allowing himself to rest on Clint’s hips once more. True to his word, freckles and scars are exactly what were behind the shirt, and Bruce bent over Clint to kiss him fiercely once his shirt was gone.

“Whoa ton of freckles…hmm that’s your new name freckles,” he grins as his hands explore Bruce’s chest. “What happened here?”

"Lot’s of things," Bruce murmurs, enjoying the press of Clint’s hands over his skin quietly. "People with stakes, people with claws…" He leans down, capturing Clint’s mouth in a kiss. "Nothing too bad, though."

Clint pulls at Bruce’s lip when they kiss and grins as he runs his hand over Bruce’s chest, “so many marks…” his fangs extend as he bites Bruce’s chest leaving a puncture mark. He grins up at Bruce, “I’ve left my mark on you what are you going to do about it freckles?”

Bruce’s eyes drift shut for just a moment as Clint passes his hands over him, before he let’s out a soft gasp. He looks to Clint with serious eyes, lips pulled up in a wicked grin. “Mark me more. I don’t mind. I /like/ your marks better than the others.”

He grins, “as you wish,” he says before he begins to make a new mark on Bruce’s chest.

Bruce sighs, content, and runs his hand down Clint’s side, gripping his hip absently as Clint marks him. “Thank you.”

Clint doesn’t say anything but does buck into Bruce once he has his hands on Bruce’s hips and mouth on his neck. He is sucking and bucking Bruce at the same time.

Bruce presses a bit more desperately against Clint, breath coming out in puffs of heat as he tilts his neck back, allowing him better access. He can’t form words, only mumbled sighs on the air. His hands clutch tight to Clint’s hips.

Clint digs his fingers into Bruce’s back as he builds a rhythm of bucking and sucking his neck. Dry humping is alright for now. Bruce said he didn’t want to go all the way tonight and that’s fine with Clint. He can seduce Bruce wearing a covered gown from his neck to his ankles if he wished. He knows exactly what buttons to push to make Bruce squirm.

"Clint," Bruce gasps out, lifting one hand to grip the sheets and tear, before his voice dissolves into desperation once more, grinding much more wantonly.

Clint grins and pulls back from Bruce’s neck and let’s his fingers do the work as they explore and massage Bruce. He bucks against Bruce smiling, “freckles,” he huffs, “nice?”

"V-very," Bruce puffs in reply, closing his eyes as Clint presses his hands against him. "V-very nice, fledgling," he teases breathlessly, leaning to kiss his lips, mindful of his own fangs.

Clint smiles into the kiss and pulls Bruce down to the bed before turning him over on his back, “my turn to be above you freckles,” he grins as he begins to create friction slowly before building the speed up as his hands travel his body.

Bruce is unused to being below someone, but he doesn’t protest beyond a mumble, before the friction between them has him panting and arching up against Clint’s hands and hips. “A-as you wish.”

Clint grins building his speed up panting, “damn Bruce your so hot…I’m getting close...”

One hand comes up to claw across Clint’s shoulders, and he let’s out a desperate sound. “Y-yes,” he mumbles, crushing their lips together and trembling slightly with pleasure.   
Good. S-so close. “More,” Bruce mumbles, muffling the sound in Clint’s shoulder.

Clint hisses when he gets clawed and kisses him deeply sucking on his lips. He continues bucking against Bruce before grunting and panting as he rolls over spent.

Bruce finishes with a hiss and a long sigh, laying back with half-hooded eyes and staring lazily up at the ceiling, smiling faintly. He touches the back of Clint’s hand, absently.

Clint huffs and squeezes his hand, “next time we can go longer and explore more kay,” he grins giving him a quick kiss to his hand. “Maybe next time I won’t have to worry about sticky underwear,” he laughs before kissing Bruce on the cheek.

Bruce glances over at Clint, languid and pleased. “As you wish,” he murmured, turning his hand up to stroke Clint’s cheek, feeling tired and satisfied. “Let us sleep; tomorrow will be a hectic day.”

“Sure thing freckles,” he grins turning over to hold onto Bruce.

Clint sleeps the rest of the day holding onto Bruce.


	6. Testing a Theory

When night finally comes Bruce stirs, stretching and letting out a long, pleased yawn, before curling up around Clint again, grumbling in his sleep.

Clint sighs and pulls on Bruce, “Bruce do you have a shower? I’m still messy from last night,” he yawns.

Bruce grumbles, before he peeks open one eye, yawning again. “Mm…it’s upstairs,” he mumbled in reply, stretching out and moving to sit up. He needed to clean up as well, he realized.

Clint groans, “why so far? Bruce you wanna shower together or would that be too soon to do?”

Bruce rubbed a hand through his curls, before he glanced over at Clint, smiling a bit. “Maybe another time,” he replied, bending to kiss at Clint’s bare shoulder.

Clint pouts, “oh that’s nice teasing me while saying no,” he smirks, “kidding see you in a few freckles,” he winks as he gets out of the bed and heads for the shower.

Bruce watches Clint go with a pleased smile on his face, before he stretches and carefully moves to stand, picking up his pants and shirt as he went. He’d just clean off at his sink down here.

Clint takes a long shower and comes back to Bruce’s room with only a towel wrapped around his waist, “hey Bruce those were my only clean clothes can I borrow some of yours?”

Bruce was already dressed and cleaned, and when he glanced back to find Clint half naked he made a choked sound of surprise before looking away. “Ahem,” he began, before he looked over to the little dresser in his room. “You can, uh, pick through my clothes. I’m not sure what will, um, fit you, though.” He resolutely did /not/ look at half naked Clint.

Clint just grins as Bruce flusters, “aw Bruce you can look all you want we’re kind of boyfriends or dating and stuff now right so it’s ok,” he smirk as he begins to look in his dresser the towel inching lower slowly as he moves.

Bruce clears his throat once more, peeking slyly over at Clint, biting his lip. “It is…much too tempting,” he replies, glancing away again. “I do not know how well my restraint could hold up to…that.”

Clint grin and looks at him innocently, “so you want sex now then?”

"I did not say I didn’t want it before," Bruce replies, looking over to Clint and clearing his throat. "I simply wished not to…rush. A slow burn is always much better than a roaring flame." He glances over the other man, appreciatively.

Clint ponders his words as he gets his pants and shirt on in front of him, “yeah a slow burn is the best,” he says teasing him.

Bruce has to grit his teeth, just a bit, as Clint pulled his clothes on. His eyes burned hungrily; he would happily tear his clothes off with his /teeth/, but he could wait. Bruce had a good suppression of hunger, did he not? “Yes…It makes it all the more…fulfilling, when you’ve waited.”

Clint grins and looks up at him, “Bruce I’m hungry. Feed me. Hey can I suck some blood from Tony oh and is Tony part my minion since we are dating,” he teases him.

"You can borrow Tony, if you like," Bruce replies, snickering. "Simply…don’t steal his memories. Those are mine." Bruce goes over to tap Clint’s cheek with one finger, before he kisses him with a smile. "What is mine is yours, if you wish it."

Clint smiles and gives Bruce a quick kiss, “you were asking for it, or did I read that signal wrong,” he laughs. “Hey why can’t I eat Tony’s memories?”

Bruce chuckles as well, before his smile falls for a half second. And then he’s smiling softly again, though he’s looking elsewhere, busying his hands. “It is…I am the original master, so I do need to keep some claim over him, hm?” He gives a chuckle that comes off much too nervous.

Clint stops, “hey Bruce it’s ok no need to be nervous…kissing is still ok right?”

Bruce looks at Clint, a bit confused. “Kissing is fine,” he replies, shifting to give Clint a gentle kiss. “I actually /enjoy/ kisses.”

“Huh ok then why’d you get so nervous a few minutes ago?”

Bruce tried to play it off. “I wasn’t nervous,” he replied, giving Clint a smile, though he turned away as he patted Clint’s shoulder. “I’m just distracted is all. Come, let’s go awake Tony.”

Clint shrugs and goes over to where Tony was last night and pokes him, “hey Tony…Tony,” he keeps poking him.

Tony is fast asleep, and he grumbles in annoyance when Clint pokes him. “Hnng…get off,” he mutters, swiping at Clint’s hand. “What’cha want, yah leech,” he mumbles into his arm, curled up tight on the chair.

Bruce is just glad Clint was so easily distracted, and goes to tidy up his desk as Clint wakes Tony.

“I want to suck your blood,” he says in a bad accent before biting Tony’s neck and drinking.

Tony let’s out a weak sound of surprise, slapping Clint’s arm before he let’s out a groan and just goes limp, letting it happen. But not without muttering a quick “You asshole”.

Bruce isn’t paying any attention, now, just going to the back of his lab for a notebook.

Clint finishes drinking from Tony and grins, “hmm you still taste like coconut. Thanks Tony.”

Tony falls back against the chair, half awake once more. “Asshole. Huge. Asshole.” He touches his neck, and then feels the back of his neck. “Least you’re not in my head,” he mumbles, frowning.

“Bruce told me I’m not allowed in your head but that I can drink from you…from time to time,” he grins before looking around the room, “speaking of Bruce where is he? We’re supposed to kick this Ross guys’s ass today.”

Tony sat up weakly, letting out a grumble of annoyance. “He’s probably…getting his…” His head bobbed, and he shook it, frowning in confusion. “Ugh, my head. He’s probably going to get the injection f’r R-Ross.”

“Injection,” he says confused, “what injection? What does it do Tony?”

Tony blinks, realizing what he’d just said. “Uh. Woops.” He lays back against the chair. “Nothing. No, uh, injection. Never mind.”

Clint glares at him and walks away before hissing at him as he goes back up the stairs to find Bruce.

Tony groans. Bruce was going to kill him.

Meanwhile, Bruce was tucking something away in the folds of his jacket when Clint found him, and he turned in surprise at his approach.

“Hey explain what the injection is and why you are going to give it to Ross.”

Bruce blinked, his eyes going wide, and he stared at Clint for a moment, before his eyes narrowed and he growled. “Tony said something, didn’t he.”

Clint makes a buzzer sound, “nope wrong answer try again. Why do you need to inject Ross with something? What is in the injection?”

Bruce didn’t reply for a long moment, his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists at his sides. And then he slowly relaxed, looking away as he rolled his shoulders. “It’s no concern of yours. Leave it be.”

He rolls his eyes, “Bruce you would lose at the game show. Seriously what is the injection? I’m not going to drop it until you tell me.”

"It’s simply to test a theory, nothing more. I wish not to speak of it until I’ve seen it through." Bruce looked to Clint, eyes dark. "Please, leave it be. It is simply a precaution."

“Ok so have you thought what would happen if you accidently injected me with it? I mean we are going to battle this vampire Ross and he could use it against you…”

Something like terror flashed through Bruce’s eyes, before he quickly looked away, hands in fists. “He won’t…I’d rather kill him than let him harm you, experiment or not.” Bruce’s shoulders slump, and his eyes slide to Clint. “Do you truly wish to know? I simply…I do not wish to disappoint you.”

“We’re going to kill an old vampire because he‘s pissing you off so he’s pissing me off. I doubt I’m going to be disappointed in ya Bruce.”

"You misunderstand me, Clint," Bruce murmured, turning to him with sad eyes. "I do not wish to give you hope and then take it away, because I do not know if it will work. If it works…then you will learn."

Clint looks at him and his eyes widen, “you found a cure didn’t you,” he asks shocked.

Bruce winces, looking down. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I do not want you to /hope/, when all of my other attempts have failed. Yes, it is a cure I hope to have perfected…but I do not know. That is why I need Ross.”

“Yeah well…it would be nice but if it doesn’t work and Ross explodes hey at least you know it doesn’t work,” he grins.

"That’s why I plan to get him. If it works, he is easier to kill. If it doesn’t he will most likely die on contact with the solution." Bruce shrugs, frowning. "If we get him."

“Don’t worry bout that freckles I’ll get him. He doesn’t know anything about me so you can use me as a surprise. Hey after we make him human again can I suck on his blood or will it make me sick? I’m hungry and I want to drain him dry,” he grins.

Bruce let’s out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. He still felt uneasy, but he trusted Clint. “If you want to…Though you can’t kill him. Save that for me.” Bruce had been waiting years to end the bastards life.

Clint nods his head, “ok drain him but leave enough life in him for you to give him the final blow. So are we going now? Can I eat someone first?”

"Yes, we can stop for a bite before we go," Bruce replied, snickering softly at Clint’s enthusiasm, watching him fondly. He turned, flicking a stake into his palm, and slipped it up his sleeve. "Best to keep our strengths up and such."

“Awesome I feel like drinking a woman whose on her period,” he says keeping a straight, “naw I’m just kidding you should have seen your face Bruce,” he laughs. “Someone did a film of that but it looked like a red slushie. It was hilarious.

Bruce’s nose stayed wrinkled with disgust for a moment, before he huffed a breath and rolled his eyes. “You’re such a child, fledgling. Let us go.”

Clint laughs and nods his head as he exits the mansion with Bruce before sniffing the air for a meal.


	7. Minion Number Two

Bruce follows after him silently, his own hunger settled after days of eating so much and so well. He sniffed the air as well, trying to see if he could find a meal that would be good enough for Clint, and keep him alert.

Clint smells a woman and sees his target, “hey I have a weird curiosity but what would happen if I drank from a girl on her period? Does it taste different?”

Bruce wrinkles his nose, before sighing. “Well…I don’t believe it would make much of a difference. The hormones are different, so it could affect you in strange ways. But it wouldn’t hurt you.”

“So I shouldn’t drink from that girl tonight since we’re fighting Ross tonight. Ok I’ll taste her tomorrow,” he grins as he spots another victim, “watch how awesome I am at doing the red eyes thing,” he smirks as he stalks up to his victim.

Bruce watches Clint, sighing at his cockiness, though it’s mostly fond. Clint’s a silly fledgling, but Bruce loved h—Bruce liked him a lot.

Clint goes up to the victim eyes turning red, “yo let me suck your blood,” he says red eyes looking at the victim.

Bruce snorts as the victim, a young woman with red hair, looks at Clint with confusion, one brow raised, even as she tilts her head to the side willingly. “‘Yo’? Really?”

“Yeah really cause I’m hungry and you look delicious,” he said grinning trying to keep his cool. He doesn’t know what to do if the woman can resist his red eyes, “but I already got a boyfriend so let me just suck your blood and I’ll be on my way.”

"Gay vampire. Meet something new every day," she replies, thoughtfully, before she gestures at her neck. "Go ahead; just don’t kill me and I think we’re good."

“Not gay just bi,” he grins, “hey you wanna be my minion? I get to suck your blood and I protect you in return.”

"Your minion?" She pursed her lips, thoughtfully, before she shrugged, looking Clint over. "Sure. Why not. Sounds more interesting than my day job."

“Awesome,” he smiles, “hey I don’t know how to make you my minion so going to have my boyfriend help me out. Follow me…oh and what’s your name?”

"Natasha," the woman replies. "Natasha Romanoff. Lead the way, ‘master’." She laughed, rolling her eyes.

Bruce raised a brow as Clint lead his meal to him instead of, well, eating it.

Clint laughs, “yeah you’re my servant do my bidding,” he says in a fake vampire accent, “hey Bruce how do you do the whole minion thing you did with Tony? She’s cool with it.”

Natasha rolls her eyes as Bruce looks the two over. “Um…Well, you have to drink her blood, and then feed her some of yours, but not much, that can have bad results. Just a bit. And you have to do it over the course of a few days. Best you take her blood from the memory source, though,” he says, tapping the back of his neck. “Creates a bond.”

“So suck the back of her neck make a bond and give her three drops of blood? That should be enough right?”

Bruce purses his lips, before he nods. “Yes, that sounds like it will do. Just be careful. The rush of memories can sometimes be…overwhelming.”  
“Memories? Oh, you’re gonna have fun,” Natasha said, rolling her eyes. “Hope you know how to speak Russian.”

Clint smirks, “pictures say a thousand words. Who knows I might go after whoever hurt you,” he said guessing as he moved her neck to his mouth before biting on it and sucking her blood and the memories.

The memories are like flash bangs—first a small child with fiery hair, two parents and a smile. BANG. A small child alone in the cold, snow to her knees. BANG. An orphanage with stiff blankets and empty halls. BANG. Bruises on pale arms, angry faces of adults chattering in Russian. BANG. Dancing, up high on toes, a cane cracked into a knee when movements were wrong. BANG. A plane, a ticket to America, a broken arm and the face of a red-faced man floating in front of her eyes. And BANG—the flash of a nicer life, slower, happier things, learning English, dancing freely, enjoying life.

Clint pulls away angry and quickly gives Natasha her three drops of blood, “you want me to go after those people they were wearing red and I would love to taste some Russian blood,” he grins at her, “you did a good job taking most of them out though.”

Natasha is a bit dazed as she swallows the blood, blinking lazily, before she smirks. “Thanks. Took ‘em out…kicked their asses…” Bruce catches her arm when she wobbles a bit. “Would’a killed ‘em all…but I had to get out first.”

Clint steads her to sit down on the ground, “yeah well they look like a nice snack we can have some fun later and mess them up alright,” he grins, “just stay here and relax we have to go take this guy out and you just gave me enough energy to do it.”

Natasha nods blearily where she sits, smiling. “Go get him…”

Bruce snickers slightly. “She should recover soon. Memory transfer is easier to recover from, but hits much harder.” He looks to Clint then. “Come; let’s go then.”

Clint nod his head and begins to follow Bruce quickly, “hits harder how,” he asked him once they were away from Natasha, “also do we have a plan for this?”

"She’ll feel dopier than if you’d just drank normal blood," Bruce replies, before he sighs. "The plan is to get inside his home, kill anyone in my way, and find him. Simple."

“Huh ok. Can I drink normal blood next time or does it always have to be memory blood,” he asks as he rolls his eyes at Bruce’s next comment, “simple he says. Dude you need to kill any lookouts first so he doesn’t flee. I got that part don’t worry I just need a good bow and arrow,” he grins.

Bruce shakes his head. “You can drink wherever you like now. The first bite is simply to form the initial bond.” And then Bruce shrugs. “Whatever you think works best. I am no battle strategist.”

“Alright arrow shooting again,” he grins, “be back in a flash need my supplies,” he says running off to get his bow and arrows.

Bruce waits for Clint, chuckling and shaking his head. Hopefully Clint was as good with that bow as he thought he was.

He comes back a few minutes later, “it was right where I left it ok so where’s his house?”

"Follow me," is all Bruce says, turning to walk down an empty road, smiling briefly. "It’s not far."

Clint nods his head and begins to follow Bruce to the house.


	8. How to Bag a Vampire

It really wasn’t far, but it was far outside of his boundaries, a huge house twice the size of his, with a rot iron gate and no neighbors on either side. “He should be home,” Bruce murmured to himself.

Clint would nod his head looking at the house and grin, “hey Bruce watch this,” he smirks as he notches an arrow and concentrate before he takes out one of the guards who turns to ash, “holy water tipped arrows that must suck,” he laughs as he continues to take out the guards.

Bruce watches Clint take down guard after guard, and can’t help smiling gleefully. Clint was brilliant. Beautiful and brilliant. He moved closer towards the gate. “You’re a beautiful little fledgling, Clint,” he told him, smirking.

“Aw thanks freckles now where or where is this Ross guy now,” he asks as they head for the doors.

"Probably the basement," Bruce replied as he reared up and kicked the locked door down. "Better to hide and such. I’m sure he knows we’re here by now."

“Yeah you’re right. What’s he look like again?”

"Grey haired. Big mustache. Dark eyes and broad shoulders," Bruce listed off, nodding.

“Ok so that guy on the stairs then,” he said arrow aimed at Ross.

“Banner you,” he says growling.

Bruce whips his head up with surprise, and his brow furrows, looking pissed. “Ross,” he snarled, fangs extending as he looked to him.

“You dare to come into my house,” he shouts as an arrow lands by his foot.

“Next one will be in your head. Go have fun Bruce,” he grins as he notches another arrow just in case.

Bruce nods, grinning viciously, before he bolts for Ross headlong. “Come here, you old bastard; let’s dance!”

Ross extends his fangs and claws before charging at Bruce as he fought him. He slashes at him and bites him as they tear up the inside of his house. Clint just keeps moving making sure he has a good angle on Ross to shoot if he needed to.

Bruce fought back just as hard, if not harder, than Ross, digging in claws and fangs and kicking and shouting and snarling. He slashes at Ross’s chest, roaring, and tackles him, grappling to hold him down.

Ross screeches as he is clawed at before using his claws to dig into Bruce’s belly when he is being held down so he can get away.

Bruce shrieks at the claws in his belly, reaching down and raking his claws across Ross’ face, snarling open mouthed.

“Bruce I got a shot take it,” he asks him not wanting to get in on his kill.

"He’s /mine/," Bruce snarled, hand clamping down on Ross’ throat as he pulled the syringe from his coat, roaring in Ross’ face before he jammed it down towards his throat.

Ross grabs at his throat and begins to struggle as the drug begins to run through his veins.

Bruce braces down against him as he struggles, snarling, trying to keep himself from killing the man right there.

Ross tries to stand and stumble, “what did you do to me…I feel weaker.”

Bruce’s grin was evil as he moved to let him stand, eyes glancing over him. “We’ll see what I’ve done…” He murmurs, reaching forward to snatch Ross by the collar.

Ross struggles under his grip feeling pain, “you made me feel pain is that it,” he laughs clawing at Bruce.

Bruce smirks, twisting the man’s arm behind his back. “We’ll see,” he says, pulling him along with strength far more than Ross had. “Clint!” He calls, looking to the fledgling. “Find some rope. We’re going to see if he’s still…a vampire.”

Clint grins looking for some rope around the house.

“I’m still a vampire you bastard,” he hisses at him fangs showing as his arm is bent back and causing him pain.

"We shall see," is all Bruce says as he drags the man out of the house, jostling him. "Come on, then. Let’s see how you last in the sunlight."

“No…no don’t you dare,” he says struggling against him.

“Hey Bruce found some rope,” he says jumping in front of both of them.

"Good," Bruce replies, grinning as he keeps shoving Ross towards the door. "We’ll tie him to the gate. I’ll call Tony, and if he’s still alive when Tony gets here in the morning…then it worked."

Clint grins as he begins to tie the struggling Ross, “I’ll kill you both just you wait. I’ll…”

Clint knocks the back of Ross’s head making him go unconscious, “what he kept rambling and I was tired of listen to him talk shit.”

Bruce snickers, pleased as they tie the unconscious man to the gate. “Oh, I understand; I’ve been listening to him for a hundred years, it seems. It’s good to see him useless.”

Clint nods his head and ties him up to the gate outside, “he still has his fangs though. It might not have worked…huh you ok with him turning to ash?”

"Absolutely," Bruce mutters, tipping the man’s head back and looking at the fangs with a frown. "Perhaps it didn’t work, but I would love to kick this man’s ashes about with glee, so it does not really trouble me. He deserves it."

Clint grins, “kick his ashes, dance on his grave type thing right,” he asks heading back to the house with Bruce as Ross hangs on the gate. “Hey how are you going to tell Tony how to get here?”

"I’ll call him," Bruce said, chuckling as they headed inside. "He knows the way. I’ve showed him before."

“No way grandpa you know how to use a phone,” he teases him.

"I was around when they /invented/ phones," Bruce replies, moving to push Clint’s shoulder, chuckling. "/You/ probably wouldn’t know how to work the /original/ phones, you wipper-snapper."

“Oh you mean the ones with a dial or the ones where only five people had a phone,” he laughs.

"All five people," Bruce replies, rolling his eyes as he finds a corded phone sitting on a table in the manor, snapping it up. "It was a tedious thing, I promise. Nothing like now."

“I bet not…so how long til we see him toast,” he asks gleefully.

Bruce dials up Tony’s phone, waiting while it rings. “Well, dawn is only two and a half hours away,” he says, smirking. “So, soon, very soon.”


	9. Let's Get Rid of A Body

Tony stumbles in his room and answers the phone groaning. He had just went to bed twenty minutes ago, “this better be fucking important,” he says laying in his bed.

"Some time after dawn I need you to come out to Ross’s place and see if he’s dead, darling," Bruce said, smirking. "You sound tired. Must suck. But I can’t go out in the sun, so…"

“No shit you drained me yesterday and your new boyfriend or whatever,” he grumbles yawning, “Pepper has me running all over creation and I don’t wanna. I hate being a grown-up Brucie.”

Bruce just snickers at Tony. “Well, you can sleep until dawn, so you better hurry up and get some shuteye before I need you, Tony.” He makes a kissing sound into the phone. “Sleep well, minion!”

“You’re an asshole night Brucie-kins,” he says making kissing sounds on the phone before hanging up so he can get those two hours of sleep he needs.

The next morning he is walking towards the gates sipping on his industrial sized coffee looking at Ross, “huh that’s weird,” he calls Bruce, “hey Bruce he isn’t dead.”

Bruce answers the call and laughs aloud at Tony’s words. “It worked!” He says, pumping a fist in the air. “Don’t get too close to him, Tony. But, by god, it /worked/!”

“Hey, hey, hey morning voice shush I can’t handle the noise right now…oh yeah he’s waking up and he’s pissed and forming blisters already,” he says rubbing the side of his head.

"Blisters?" Bruce frowns, more subdued. "Tony, get a stick or something. Poke him. Get him more awake and see what’s going on with him."

Tony picks up a stick and wacks him in the face with it before poking him, “hey there sunshine. Yeah Bruce’s they’re sun blisters like if he was a really pale guy who forgot sunscreen. He’s still moaning and stuff.”

Bruce furrows his brow, frowning. “Can you poke open his mouth, see if he still has any fangs there?”

“Are you fucking crazy Bruce! I need my hands to live no way am I opening his mouth. Fuck you! Being you’re minion sucks,” he says as he opens Ross’s mouth with the stick, “yeah fangs are still there and he’s not ash the hell Bruce?”

"I don’t understand…he’s out in the sun, but he’s not dead…did I really create a damn sunscreen for vampires?!"

“Sure as shit looks like it,” he says as Ross begins to wake up, “oh hey there Ross buddy what up?”

“I’m in pain you mortal incompetent…” he knocks Ross out with the stick.

“Yeah Bruce you made Vampire sunscreen but Ross is still in pain from whatever you guys did to him last night,” he says making a face, “that twisted arm yikes, it’s not healing at all.”

 “So he’s half vampire half mortal…ok then Bruce go get your noble peace prize,” he laughs.

Bruce makes a frustrated noise. “Well…that’s inconvenient. Alright, Tony, you can leave him alone. I’ll kill him once the sun goes down. Fucking useless anyway.”

“Uh I don’t know if you can wait til sundown. People are going to wake up and see this guy on a fence as they do their morning walks so he needs to come down and be killed or whatever you want now.”

"Shit, you’re right…" Bruce frowns. "Is he out cold? Do you think you can drag him inside?"

“I can’t drag him inside it’s a two man job I’ll need help,” he says over the phone.

"Shit," Bruce keeps muttering, rubbing his head. "Dammit, I want to finish him. I think I’m going to have to leave the honors to you, Tony."

“But I don’t wanna kill him come on Brucie…”

Bruce rubs his brow, annoyed, before he pauses. “Tony, go back out in town. There will be a girl, a redhead named Natasha. She’s Clint’s minion. Go to her, talk to her, and bring her back since you’re too big of a pansy to kill him or drag him in yourself.”

“Hey I’m not a pansy I actually need my hands to work and my back does not need that stress asshole…she better be a hot little number,” he says hanging the phone up and heading back into town to find the red head. It shouldn’t be too hard to find the red head at least it wasn’t a blonde girl that would have been worse.

Natasha was in town nursing her headache, drinking a cup of black coffee outside of a coffee shop.

Tony spots her immediately and goes up to her and sits in front of her, “hey is your name Natasha. Do you know a Bruce or Clint by any chance?”

Natasha glances up, brow raised, coffee held to her lips. “Um, yes, actually. Why do you ask?”

“I need your help moving a body…they’re asking us to move a body for them since they can’t come out right now.”

Natasha’s eyebrows rose in surprise, before she rolled her eyes, finishing off her coffee with a sigh. “Alright, lead the way…what’s your name? If we’re going to be moving a body together I think I should at least know your name.”

“Tony Stark,” he grins, “but you can just call me Tony babe,” he says giving her his winning smile that worked on all the other ladies.

Natasha stared at him for just a moment, before she tipped her head back and laughed, getting up. “Use that on all the ladies, do you, Mr. Stark?” She rolled her eyes again, gesturing. “Come on, Casanova show me the way to this body.”

“Damn not even a bite,” he grabs his chest, “I’m hurt Natasha really I am,” he says leading her to the body of a Ross that is awake. “Huh he was knocked out earlier but yeah that’s the body we have to move.”

"Vampire, or what?" She asked, picking up the stick Tony had discarded to go and poke him experimentally. "I mean, vampires die in sunlight, right? So what is he, just a human?"

“Well Bruce demoted him. He used to be a full vampire now he’s only half,” he smirks as Ross hisses at them both blisters popping.

“You two will be the first mortals I feed on once I am free…”

Natasha rolled her eyes dramatically, sighing, before rearing the stick back and cracking it over his head, rendering him unconscious as it snaps in half. “Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Let’s drag this sack of nasty into the house before he wakes up again, Stark.”

Stark looks at her in ah and runs up to her on one knee, “Natasha marry me?”

Natasha looks down at Tony and can’t help snickering, patting his hair. “Buy me dinner first, and maybe I’ll think about it.” She then turns to work on Ross’s ropes, pulling a pocket knife from her back pocket and cutting the unconscious man loose.

Tony grins, “you got it name any five star restaurant and we can rent it out for the night,” he says helping her carry the body.

"Sounds good to me," Natasha replied, hoisting up the man’s arms as Tony took to legs. "I’m inclined to say red wine is mandatory as well."

He chuckles, “of course red wine for the lady and scotch for the man,” he grins carrying the body with her. “I think we need to go in the house and drop it off.”

Natasha glances over to the house, and then nods, walking up the stairs backwards as she goes to the front door. “Alright, drop off unconscious half-vampire,” she mutters, propping him up as she grabbed the door handle.

Tony holds Ross in place while she gets the door. Clint opens the door a crack standing back from the sunlight, “hey Nat sorry I can’t help until you reach this mark right here,” he grins standing in the darkness.

Natasha shrugs, helping Tony with Ross once more as the door opens, dragging him inside, out of the sunlight and into the shadow. Bruce stands a bit further in the room, eyes trained on the unconscious, blistered Ross.

Once the body is on the ground Tony sighs and looks at Clint, “hey can you tell Bruce I’m done transporting bodies for the day,” he grins.

Clint laughs, “yeah sure he’s right behind me in the shadows, “you ok Nat?”

Bruce comes a bit closer once Ross is in the shadows, and he smirks. “Tony, shut up. Go home, take a nap, maybe wipe the whine out of your diet.”

Natasha dusts her hands off, smirking. “I’m fine. I’ve carried fatter dead bodies than this guy.”

“Yeah but I doubt you were drained from a vampire the night before you did it,” he smirks.

Tony just flips Bruce off before exiting towards the light area of the door, “hey Nat wanna grab some coffee?”

Natasha chuckles, before she looks considerately back at Tony. After a moment, she shrugs. “Sure, I could do with some coffee,” she said, looking back at Clint and Bruce with a grin. “Have fun with your…/friend/ there,” she said, backing into the light after Tony.

Bruce rolled his eyes, but smiled.

Clint teases her and looks at Tony, “Stark don’t make me have to hurt you with my shotgun. You better treat Nat right,” he laughs waving at them both as they leave Tony flicking him off.

Natasha snickers and rolls her eyes as they leave.


	10. Only One I Want

Clint looks at Bruce, “so wanna kill him,” he asks pointing at Ross.

Bruce looks down at Ross, thoughtfully, before he nods. “Well, yes.” He pulls out the empty syringe, going over to Ross. “I’ll get a blood sample. Then we’ll kill him.”

“Awesome,” he grins, “can I suck his blood or do you think it’s contaminated with that serum stuff you made?”

"I dunno," Bruce replied, kneeling down and taking a sample, before bending to sniff him. "He smells almost human, but I wouldn’t risk it."

Clint shrugs and watches Bruce take the sample and looks at him, “hey Bruce if this serum thing worked and it’s not so bad can you make it better? I miss the sun…”

Bruce turns his eyes up to Clint, and he watches him for a moment, before he nods resolutely. “I’ll make it better. We’ll see the sun again, Clint. I promise.”

Clint smiles at Bruce and sighs, “off with his head your majesty,” he asks grinning.

Bruce nods, not wasting time now. He grips Ross by the hair, staring at the face of the man he’s hated for so very long, and he rears back his hand, claws snapping, before he brings them forward to slice the man’s throat, dropping him like a sack as he stands. “Well…that’s done.”

“Aw grandpa Bruce did you have an accident with the punch again,” he laughs watching Ross breathe his last breath.

Bruce’s lips quirk in a smirk, and he glances at Clint, rolling his eyes. “Oh, yes, a huge slip of the hand,” he says, shaking the blood from his fingers. “My old age is really getting to me, kiddo; you’ll have to kill an ancient enemy /for/ me next time.”

Clint groans, “really gramps what is with you and the other vampires having so many ancient enemies.”

"It’s a vampire thing. We’re around each other too long. You learn to hate people a lot more when they don’t just fucking /die/," Bruce replied, reaching over to push Clint’s shoulder. "We’ll find you an ancient enemy too, promise."

“Yeah I hope I don’t get them…holy shit Bruce. Bruce stand right here and yeah perfect just stand there and put your foot on Ross’s body,” he grins and kneels down next to Bruce and wraps his arms around him looking seductive. “We should get a picture like this. I bet we look like a badass version of a scifi romance novel.”

Bruce looks down at Clint, confused, before he laughs, tossing his head back. “My god, Clint, you’re such a cute idiot.”

“Yeah but I’m your cute idiot,” he grins, “that counts for something right freckles?”

Bruce reaches down to ruffle Clint’s hair, chuckling. “It counts for something, true. Means I’m more inclined to kiss you than find you annoying.”

“Yes I get all the kisses,” he grins as he looks at the syringe with Ross’s blood in it, “so you think we could be kind of human again?”

Bruce nods, looking at the syringe thoughtfully and turning it between his fingers. “I think I could fix the bugs…work out a more firm cure…” He paused. “Perhaps a real cure will take longer. But to see the sun…” Bruce closed his eyes, sighing, and slipped the syringe away. “It has been…centuries.”

Clint gives Bruce a hug from behind, “hey if there’s anyone that can figure it out it’s you babe now come on I’m tired and I want to sleep in the same bed as my boyfriend thank you very much.”

Bruce turns in Clint’s arms, smiling, and cups his cheek, kissing him. “Let’s go sleep, then. I’m sure Ross has some nice beds in this mansion; we’ll go home once night falls.”

Clint kisses him back before groaning, “aw but I don’t want his old man smell on you Bruce. I only like your old man smell,” he teases hugging him as they go up the stairs to one of the beds.

"Only /my/ old man smell, hm?" Bruce smirks, rolling his eyes as he pushes Clint teasingly back onto the bed. "I can make it so you only have my smell, if you’d like." He grins, wickedly, and goes to pounce on Clint.

Clint falls on the bed and chuckles, “babe as much as I want to have sex with you I don’t want to do it in this bed. It freaks me out fucking on a dead guy’s bed, that’s just weird.”

Bruce laughs, grinning and nuzzles up next to Clint. “You’re boring,” he replies, pouting, before he chuckles, wrapping an arm around Clint’s waist. “It’s okay; I get it.”

“I am not boring. I want to ease you into the weirdness. I’m not going to ask you for a jawbreaker twister move yet geez Bruce,” he scoots closer to him and lays his head on his chest, “you that eager babe?”

"Jawbreaker twister move?" Bruce snickers, petting Clint’s hair and smiling. "Always over-eager with you, it would seem, but I’ll be alright for now. I’m content just to lie here with you."

Clint grins, “it’s a fun way to give someone a blow job and have them fondle you at the same time. I’ll teach it to you one day.”

Bruce clears his throat, embarrassed, and can’t help chuckling, rolling his eyes. “Of course that’s what it is,” he murmurs, ruffling Clint’s hair. “I can’t wait; shall it be a demonstration, perhaps?” He snickers.

“Of course I’ll blow you first and tell you how it’s done,” he smirks as he holds onto Bruce yawning.

Bruce bit his lip, chuckling, and kissed the top of Clint’s head, wrapping his arm around him more tightly. “Mm, I’m looking forward to it. Now sleep, before I get too tempted.”

“Your fault…you brought it up,” he says falling asleep on Bruce, “no sex in dead man’s bed promise Bruce,” he asks sleepily.

"Promise, Clint," Bruce murmurs, kissing the top of his head once more and chuckling into his hair. "I love you," he murmurs, almost too low to be heard. "Sleep well, fledgling."

“Love ya too Brucie,” he mumbles half asleep before passing out for the rest of the day.

Bruce fell asleep soon after him, holding him carefully in the circle of his arms as he did.


	11. Matchmaker, Matchmaker Make Me A Match

Clint yawns the next night as he wakes up and feels the hunger. He whines and pokes Bruce in the stomach waking up, “Bruce….Bruce…Bruce…”

Bruce is slow to awake, and when he does he awakes feeling annoyed, being poked again and again. He yawns, stretching, before he opens his eyes and glares at Clint. “Fledgling, I will kill you if you poke me again,” he grumbles, half awake.

Clint grins and pokes him again, “Bruce I’m hungry. Get me food please…please you can’t kill me you love me,” he says in a sing song voice teasing him.

Bruce groans like a dying man, before he rolls over, moving to sit up and stretch his arms over his head. “You’re such a child,” he grumbles, yawning again. “Come then, let’s get food before you /die/, you whiny baby.”

“Hey I am not a whinny baby. Be nice or you won’t get a blow job when we get home tonight freckles,” he says crossing his arms. “Speaking off do I have to drink from Nat again tonight?”

Bruce rolls his eyes, but smiles, chuckling. “Yes, drinking from her tonight keeps the bond up. Three days and she’s yours.” He reaches over, touching Clint’s cheek. “And using blow jobs against me, huh? Wicked little thing. Let’s go.”

“Does it have to be the memory neck spot again,” he asks, “I didn’t like the memories I got last time. Kind of want to hunt and eat them. Can I do that?”

"You can hunt and eat whoever you’d like, so long as I’m with you," Bruce says as they leave the room. "And, no; you can drink from wherever you please, now. It is only the first time you must taste her memories."

“Ok Bruce…Bruce she just had so many bad memories and I want to protect her now,” he said, “you won’t get jealous because of that will you?”

"I cannot promise that I won’t be," Bruce replies, shrugging with a soft, guilty smile. "But I am possessive; it’s alright. I will get over it, in time."

“But Bruce it’s not like I want to make love to her, more like protect her like an older brother,” he said smiling.

"I know," Bruce replies, taking Clint’s hand and kissing the knuckles, smiling. "As I said, I will get over it in time. Sharing you at all…it’s not ideal. But I will be alright."

“But Bruce I share you with Tony. You’re being a baby,” he says pouting.

Bruce rolls his eyes. “I am not a baby. I am a centuries old vampire who doesn’t like to share, because I do not possess much. I never said you could not have her, though. I will not protest.”

Clint smirks, “toddlers and babies don’t like to share so yes you are acting like a baby,” he laughs teasing him. “Bruce I have to find Natasha first and feed from her first before I hunt someone else be back soon,” he says exiting the mansion and looking for Natasha.

Bruce watches him go for a moment, before he smiles, shaking his head and heading off to find his own meal, or minion. Depending.

Clint spots Natasha and smiles as he walks up to her, “Natasha I’m hungry let me feed from you. I have to do this one more day and you’ll be my minion tomorrow ok?”

Natasha had been sitting and absently texting on her phone, and when she glanced up she set it aside, chuckling. “Yeah, sure,” she said, tilting her head. “Have at it, then.”

“Thanks Nat,” he says before sucking her blood for a few seconds before pulling back, “you feeling ok not dizzy right?”

Natasha turns her head for a moment, testing, before she shrugs. “I feel fine. Should probably go eat some cookies, but I’m good.” She smiles. “Don’t worry.”

“But your my sexy red headed minion of course I’m going to worry,” he teases her.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to break,” she replies, before she chuckles. “‘Master’. Can’t forget the formalities.”

He rolls his eyes, “yeah whatever. Hey did Tony treat you right today? Did he really wine and dine with you tonight?”

"Of course," Natasha replied, chuckling as she picked up her phone again, tapping it to life. "I would go for nothing less. Besides, I needed some good food, and that boy is /loaded/. I think I could marry him."

“Really,” he asks sitting by her, “he is that good then. Huh are you really going to marry him? Like you said he’s loaded but that doesn’t buy happiness all the time.”

Natasha looked over to Clint, before she smiled fondly, patting his head. “No worries; I’ve never really been much for love or romance. If I were to ever marry, someone would have to work damn hard for my hand. And I doubt that’ll ever happen.” She chuckled, shrugging. “So, I’ll have a bit of fun with Tony, see where it leads. Probably nothing major.”

Clint grins thinking up a plan, “I don’t know you never know. Tony is persistent when he has his eyes set on something,” he grins. He was going to rope Bruce in and help him play matchmaker.

Natasha raised a brow curiously, chuckling. “Well, we’ll see about that, then, won’t we?” She smiled, bumping shoulders with Clint affectionately.

Clint nods his head grinning, “oh yeah we shall see. I gotta head back to Bruce see ya tomorrow Nat,” he smiles before running off towards Bruce.

He reaches their house in a few minutes and grins, “hey freckles guess what you’re helping me play matchmaker with Tony and Nat.”

Bruce glances up to Clint from where he’d been examining Ross’ blood, raising a brow. “Since when am I a matchmaker? And is it because they’re /our/ minions, you want them to be tucked happily together?” Bruce chuckles, straightening.

“Well it wouldn’t hurt. They don’t date any outsiders and we don’t have to kill them later if they break up with the outsiders but not the point. I want Nat to be happy and Tony’s persistent isn’t he,” he says jumping on the desk and sitting on it next to Bruce.

"Very persistent," Bruce replied with a roll of his eyes, chuckling. He looks at Clint, eyebrow raised. "You’re serious, then? How do you suppose we…get them together?"

“How about we suggest it,” he grins, “you know vampires can do suggestion so why not just give them a little push in the right direction.”

"You’re basically asking me to slip Tony a love potion," Bruce teases, poking Clint in the side. "But, if that’s what you want, I don’t mind. It’d be good for my minion to keep away from all those other people. His blood might get fouled up otherwise."

“Argh I can’t believe you said that. Love potions don work otherwise you get Tom Riddle a.k.a Voldermort Bruce,” he whines, “just give them a small push that’s all.”

Bruce raised a confused brow, before he shrugged. “Alright, then, a small push. I’m sure this will end terribly, but it won’t hurt to try.”

“I saw that look. You don’t know who Harry Potter is do you,” he asks poking him.

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck. “Um…no? I don’t much pay attention to modern things, dear. It bores me.”

Clint raises his hands in the air, “unbelievable I can’t believe you right now. Go to your room and read all seven Harry Potter books right now,” he said in a dad voice.

Bruce pouted, poking Clint in the stomach. “I will not. I don’t even know what they’re /about/, let alone where to find them.”

“It’s only the best series ever Bruce,” he says, “I have them somewhere in here. I’ll find them and you’ll read them,” he says pouting.

Bruce chuckles as he pats Clint’s cheek. “Alright, alright, I’ll read your strange books, if it will please you,” he replies, rolling his eyes. “Such a child.”

“I am not a child…oh my god you remind me of Snape,” he says closes his mouth and shaking his head, “uh uh no spoilers,” he runs off to get the books and returns a few minutes later. “Here read all seven and start at the beginning…” he lists off the book order in rapid speed, “got it.”

Bruce let’s out a deep, set upon sigh. “Stone, Chamber, Prisoner, Goblet, Order, Half-Blood, and Hallows,” Bruce lists off, looking at the books in his arms and sighing again. “You are /such/ a child, but I will read your colorful books if it is what you wish.”

“Oh you have no clue. I thought the same thing. Hey these are kid books should be easy enough to read. You have no idea the amount of feels and hurts you are going to get from this series.”

"Feels?" Bruce lets out a breath, setting the stack aside and plucking up the first curiously. "I suppose it’s worth a bit of my time."

“Oh you say that now but you will be consumed by it,” he laughs evilly, “so how’s that blood sample? Is it a cure yet?”

Bruce absently reads the first page, before glancing over to his sample. “Once I’ve finished these books, I will have this cure finished,” he replies, smiling. “I am sure of it.”

“So we’ll be able to sunbath by the morning then. It that what you’re saying freckles,” he grins.

"That’s what I’m saying," Bruce replies, grinning. "We can lay out for hours and sleep like cats in the sun. I promise."

“Heck yeah,” he grins, “hey freckles finish the cure first you can read the books in the sun later,” he grins.

Bruce laughs, rolling his eyes as he turns back to his work, nodding. “Alright, shoo then. I’ll call you in when I’m finished.”

“Alright better be soon,” he grins before heading off down the hall to another room to waste his time while Bruce does science.


	12. Blinded Me With Science

It’s a few hours later, only an hour before dawn, that Bruce is suddenly bouncing into Clint’s room, laughing with glee and grinning. “Clint, Clint! I’ve done it!”

Clint jumps up and goes over to Bruce, “no fucking way uh how does it work inject me slather me with the lotion…rub it on it’s skin else it gets the hose again,” he laughs, “come on freckles show me, show me, show me!”

Bruce grips Clint around the waist like a child and /drags/ him to the lab, laughing gleefully. When they arrive there are two syringes, and Bruce comes to a halt in front of them, waving at them frantically. “Here, here! Injection, nearly painless, and the sun is /ours/!”

“How long does it last? Do we have to get injections all the time,” he asks excited as he looks at both shots.

"I’ve been checking with samples of my blood, and from what I can tell it’s DNA altering. As in, a onetime fits forever kinda deal, like the bite." Bruce is bouncing with excitement, laughing. "Like, just one batch is needed."

Clint’s eyes widen as he puts his arm out for Bruce, “stick me Bruce!”

Bruce can’t help laughing once more, though maybe he’s a bit mad with excitement, and he plucks up the needles, looking at Clint. “If you wish,” he replies, coming over to Clint and bending to kiss the inside of his arm before he raises the needle and presses to his skin. “Alright, in one…two…three…”

Clint blushes when Bruce kisses the inside of his arm but he doesn’t have time to think about that as he is injected with the cure. “Huh I don’t feel any different hey Bruce maybe a kiss on the lips will spark it,” he grins tapping his lips.

Bruce looks up, smirking and rolling his eyes as he grabs his own injection. “Perhaps you’re right,” he replies, snickering as he jabs the needle into his own arm, before catching Clint’s lips in a kiss.

Clint smiles as he leans into the kiss and pulls back smiling, “hmm still nothing might have to try again doc.”

Bruce pulls his own needle out, tossing it aside, and wraps his arm around Clint’s waist, cupping his jaw and kissing him again, smirking into it. “Mm, how about that? Working yet?”

Clint pulls back gasping before grinning, “yeah feels like it but you need another kiss to get yours working freckles,” he says as he pulls him in for a kiss and sucks his mouth before forcing his tongue inside and cutting it along Bruce’s fangs on purpose, “oh my bad Brucie,” he teases him, “did I taste good?”

Bruce let’s out a groan, tongue darting out, and his fangs extend hungrily, hands moving to grip Clint’s waist, pulling him closer. “You taste divine, actually,” he replies, grinning wolfishly.

Clint leans in again in Bruce’s space getting ready to kiss him before he pulls away, “let’s go check out the cure,” he smirks as he teases Bruce running towards the door.

Bruce let’s out a frustrated noise, before he sprints after Clint, distracted from the exit for a moment. “Bastard!”

Clint laughs as he opens the door and hesitantly puts his hand outside.

Bruce halts in his tracks as they come to the door and stop, and his fingers run nervously down Clint’s sides, anxious at the contact. “Are you alright?”

Clint comes back inside holding his hand and shows it to Bruce that it is missing, “it didn’t work Bruce I lost my hand oh my god Bruce it just turned to ash,” he says fake crying on him before pulling back and showing him his hand is fine. “Got ya,” he laughs running outside the door.

Bruce goes after him, snarling, and wacks the back of his head, before he stumbles after him out the door. He stops dead in his tracks. He’s all the way outside, standing just outside the door, in broad daylight…and nothing’s happening. His eyes widen, and he holds his breath, before he whispers. “Clint?” Voice a squeak.

Clint smiles as he stands outside, “yeah I know man it’s like an orgasm with the sun. I want an orgasm with you first Bruce and then I want one with the sun,” he says looking at him as he pulls him to the grass to lay down. “We are baking ourselves for fifteen minutes freckles.”

Bruce goes willingly, hardly able to move, let alone speak. He just lays next to Clint, trying to form words and failing. Instead he just wraps a tight arm around Clint’s waist and yanks him close to his side, hiding his face in his neck.

Clint pats him on the back wondering why he’s freaking out so much when it hits him. For him it might have just been a few years for Bruce it has been centuries since he’s seen the sun. He holds onto Bruce and lets him lay on his neck as long as he wants rubbing his back, “aw Bruce no come on man how can you see the sun if your hiding in my neck.”

Bruce mumbles something too softly into Clint’s skin to be heard, before he shutters, peeking out and taking long, deep, nervous breaths, swallowing hard. “I…It’s beautiful,” he murmurs, shying back into Clint’s side. “It’s nothing like I remember. It’s…better.” The sun’s heat on him is amazing, near burning for all his being used to cold, dark places.

Clint tsshes before pulling Bruce into a kiss and grins, “yep kisses are better in the sun with you freckles. It’s a proven fact.” He smiles laying on his side to look at Bruce.

Bruce chases the kiss with his lips, almost to distract himself, fingers absently running down Clint’s arm as he kisses along his jaw. “Warmer out here. Makes /you/ warmer.” He nuzzles into Clint, sweetly. “Love you. So much.” The sun must be making him horribly mushy.

“Ah huh,” he grins letting Bruce kiss his jaw, “ever been blown outside for everyone to see,” he asks waggling his eyebrows.

Bruce pulls back a bit, flustered, and trails his fingers up the side of Clint’s neck, into his hair. “You know I haven’t,” Bruce replies, chuckling and looking down, embarrassed. “Though I can’t say it doesn’t sound appealing.”

“Oh really,” he grins as he hovers over Bruce hand at Bruce’s zipper, “do you want to find out?”

Bruce raises a brow, before his face splits into a grin, wicked, and he rests back on the grass. “Sure. Have a go, fledgling. Just don’t /bite/ me.”

Clint grins as he unzips Bruce, “no promises freckles gotta leave my mark somewhere,” he says as he pulls his pants down and goes down on him for the next hour with breaks in between.

He wipes his mouth and grins face flushed, “you have fast recovery time for a grandpa.”

Bruce pants lightly, staring up at the sky, one hand in his hair, the other with a clump full of grass gripped in it. “…well…” He shivers, grinning. “It’s probably a vampire thing.” He murmurs happily, looking down at Clint, grinning like a wolf. “I think…I’m going to keep you forever,” he purrs, releasing the grass and reaching down to take Clint by the chin. “That was…amazing.”

Clint smiles as Bruce grabs his chin and licks the side of Bruce’s face, “good cause now you have my cooties on your face,” he laughs before kissing him on the lips before sighing, “Bruce we’re vampires and forever forever with you sounds great but what if I do something stupid down the road like really stupid.  Something that make up sex for a week could not fix kind of stupid. Would you still want forever forever then?”

Bruce’s arm wraps around Clint’s waist, pulling them flush together, and he nuzzles into his cheek, sighing. “Clint, you could run a stake through my heart and I would still love you with my last breath. Do not fret it. You’ve won me completely.” He teasingly nips at the side of Clint’s neck, fangs out. “Besides…I’m more likely to do something stupid. So be prepared.”

Clint chuckles, “Bruce I was a carnie I think I can do more stupid things than you can,” he says poking Bruce between the eyes with his thumb and grinning.

Bruce swipes his hand away, rolling his eyes. “And I’ve been around for thousands of years. Just long enough to learn how to fuck up literally /anything/.”

“Oh cool so let’s be fuck ups together then,” he smiles giving Bruce a quick kiss. “Oh yeah now that we can play in the sun we can annoy our minions and play matchmaker so much easier.

Bruce ran a hand over Clint’s cheek, snickering. “Alright. Match-making vampire lovers. Not something I’d ever thought I’d be able to say I was a part of, but oh well.”

“Get used to it babe, cause guess what the sooner we get those two hitched the sooner we can have fun of our own. Think of it like a game,” he grins giving him a quick kiss. “Come on let’s go play in the sun you pasty,” he teases him running off.


	13. Just A Little Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***Warning there is a sex scene in here sorry forgot about this one***

A little more than half a year later Clint is watching a wedding from the sidelines as he nudges Bruce, “ha told you they would get hitched. Just needed a little push,” he laughs holding onto Bruce. “Hey Brucie I need to ask you a very serious and important question. I know that’s rare of me but I’m being serious,” he says getting nervous.

He pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to Bruce. On it is a picture of them in suits and ties getting married drawn out in crude stick figures on purpose, “I didn’t want to pick a ring out you didn’t like so I came up with this idea so is that a yes?”

Bruce is watching the wedding with a small, happy smile. He’s glad for them, seeing Tony finally settle with someone, seeing Natasha subtly grin. But he’s distracted when Clint says he has something /important/ to ask. Those kinds of things are never good. Usually. And then he’s flipping open the cutest drawing he’s ever seen and he’s staring with wide eyes and he can’t speak for a long, open-mouthed moment.

“Yes.” He murmurs it almost too quiet to be heard, before his mouth breaks into a grin, tears burning in his eyes. “Y-yes, of course, yes.”

Clint woots and smacks Bruce with a kiss on the lips, “ok married life should be fun. Do vampires do it a different way than humans? Hey what about consummating the marriage a little early,” he grins waggling his eyebrows.

Bruce glances around, and when he’s sure no one will notice them, he wraps an arm around Clint’s waist and pulls him closer to him, dipping his head to nip gently at the side of his neck. “I wouldn’t mind that,” he murmurs, smirking. “And the exchange of blood is accustomed, along with memories. Basically a minion bond between both vampires.”

Clint blushes and pulls back from the kiss, “aw man you mean you don’t need rings? Ok let me bite you then and then you can bite me,” he said eager.

"Not /here/," Bruce replies, looking aghast. "It’s a rather…" He flushes, clearing his throat. "Intimate thing; not like a wedding. I’d prefer we did this at home."

“Then we can go home Nat ad Tony will understand,” he says smiling as he grabs his hand.

Bruce let’s out a sigh, before he grins, rolling his eyes. “Alright, love. Lead the way to marriage.” He snickers.

Clint grins and gives Bruce a quick kiss, “hey Bruce just a warning after the whole biting neck and memories thing we are going to get it on worse than rabbits. Are you comfortable with that,” he asks making sure he would be comfortable. He doesn’t want to pressure him into the sex.

Bruce snorts, lifting Clint’s hand and kissing his knuckles. “I am anticipating it,” Bruce replies, chuckling. “Do not worry, I’ve been…eager for some time.” He smiles at Clint, before he scowls a bit. “Just, um…my memories…I should /warn/ you…”

“Oh really eager are we,” he chuckles before becoming serious, “yeah you have over a thousand years of memories so yes you’ve probable killed a lot of people, not to mention your dad being a jackass and it’s very violent but I can handle it…hey will you see my baby memories? If you do I am cute as fuck. Can I see your baby memories Bruce please,” he asks giving him a puppy face.

Bruce blinks in surprise, before he smiles, slowly, shaking his head. “I suppose you might see me as a babe. It depends; the memories are distant even for me. But perhaps.” He chuckles, cupping Clint’s cheek. “And I am /sure/ you were precious. You are /you/.”

“Damn straight I was the best looking babe in the world besides you honey,” he grins as they arrive outside the house moments later. “Just a warning some bad stuff did happen to me so don’t think about going vigilant after the whole memory swap thing ok. It happened and it’s done and over with,” he grins.

Bruce nods, shuffling his feet with a small smile. “I’ll do my best,” he replies, wrapping an arm around Clint’s waist as he tugs him inside. “Come on, my room. I want to do this right.”

Clint nods his head and follows Bruce to his room and closes the door, “so you want to do the bite first so I know how to do it to you?”

Bruce nodded, tugging Clint over to the bed so he can sit them both down, holding both of his hands. “I’ll bite first.” He folds his legs, crossed atop the bed, and practically tugs Clint into his lap.

Clint falls into his lap and grins, “aw are you getting kinky now Bruce.”

Bruce laughs a bit, shaking his bed and nuzzling the side of his throat. “Maybe a bit,” he replies, before he gets a bit more serious, lips trailing to the back of Clint’s throat. “I’ll feel better if I can hold you, is all…”

Clint moans before snuggling closer up to Bruce, “well Bruce you can hold me anyway you want now just bite me,” he says exposing the back of his neck.

Bruce kisses, tentatively, just at the spot at the back of Clint’s neck, before his fangs extend and he grips Clint close, sinking them inside and taking a pulling from the blood that flows.

Clint moans at the kiss before going quiet as Bruce takes his blood and watches his memories.

The memories are scattered and unorganized. One moment they are showing a teenage Clint preform in the circus another moment they are showing Clint as a child getting beat by his father after one of his drunken rages.

It shows Clint and his brother being hidden by their mother before their father comes home. It shows his brother and him living at the orphanage.

 It shows Clint climbing a tree so the kids from the orphanage can’t get him. His brother and him leave the place when they are a little bit older.

It shows a car crash and his brother and him seeing their parents lifeless eyes.

It shows them finding a circus and being clowns at first. Clint begins to do the tightrope later on while his brother trains with the swordsman and becomes a knife thrower. Clint learning how to use a bow for the first time and having his arm sting from the string whipping him. It shows the Swordsman training Clint and making him steal from banks and others as a masked man.

It shows how he lost his hearing when his dad slapped him so hard across his head he went unconscious.

It shows his brother being drained from the swordsman. It shows Clint’s revenge and turning the Swordsman to ash.

It shows his struggle with becoming a vampire and his first kill one of his friends at the circus. It shows how reckless and blood thirsty he was with all his kills.

It then begins to show some of the events Clint shared with Bruce. It also shows Clint writing on Bruce’s face in the middle of the day and one where Clint lays in Bruce’s bed for a short nap before leaving.

Bruce pulls back from Clint’s neck, eyes closed, teeth bared. He feels his anger bubbling beneath his skin, but he’d promised, promised Clint he wouldn’t go into a rage. He’d promised him. So instead Bruce licks away a stray drop of blood from Clint’s neck and nuzzles against him, arms tight around him. “I’m sorry,” Bruce murmurs faintly, and then, “I love you.”

Clint feels exhausted and leans on Bruce, “no sorries…happened long time ago. My turn,” he asks Bruce looking up at him.

Bruce nods, carefully leaning forward, exposing the back of his neck. “Your turn,” he agrees, nodding. “Just…don’t freak out, okay?” His hand finds Clint’s, and he swallows a bit nervously. “I…well, you’ll see…”

Clint looks up at him and pulls Bruce’s face down for a kiss, “not going to freak out,” he smiles pulling back before sticking his fangs in the back of Bruce’s neck as the memories begin to flow.

Bruce’s memories are blurry around the edges in some places, more focused in others, and they stream forward like water from a broken damn.

A woman, warm brown eyes and curly hair, sings in a foreign language, holding a small, cooing boy.

An enraged man looms over a child with a whip, snarling with rage, and snaps it across his ankles.

A boy cowers over his mother’s prone body, weeping.

Green eyes like daggers staring into a young man’s eyes, fangs flashing as he snarled.

The same looming man broken and emptied of blood lays at Bruce’s feet.

Things go much faster after that, snapping forward through time, blood and violence and anger, a mentor who ripped people apart with Bruce, tore through people for hundreds of years, killed and drank and learned.

Then the mentor was gone, with Bruce left at the center of a ring of bodies, and the memories slowed a bit.

Years and years alone, starving himself for weeks at a time, refusing to kill, to be alone. Meeting another vampire, a woman with pretty brown eyes and soft curly hair. Holding her hand and nothing more.

Losing her to Ross when her father tried shoving him into the sunlight, and she went instead.

Then everything blurred together in its rapid fire, until there was only Clint, their first meeting, their first kiss, and a dozen times after, Bruce watching over him while he slept, adoringly.

It ended on then and now and their kiss.

Clint growls as he pulls away from Bruce and licks the blood away, “I want to kill your dad even though he’s dead…I get why you hated Ross now. You should have told me. We could have tortured him more,” he says kissing Bruce on the lips pulling him closer.

Bruce murmured softly, feeling a bit dazed as he rested against Clint, kissing him back softly and nuzzling him. “‘S’okay,” Bruce replied softly, rubbing one hand down Clint’s back and resting his cheek on his shoulder. “Just…wanted him dead. You helped, you helped so that’s all that matters.”

“But I would have sliced him and used barbwires to keep the wounds open so he couldn’t heal…ok if you say so freckles,” he says giving him a kiss on the nose, “can we have sex now?”

Bruce couldn’t help grinning slightly, arms coming up to wrap Clint up tight, pulling him closer as he lifted his head, kissing the man gently. “If you want to, then, yes,” he murmured, grinning. “We do need to…consummate this little marriage.”

“Good,” he grins, “you’re a virgin right? Maybe you should bottom first before topping me.”

"Whatever you think is best," Bruce replied a bit sheepishly, lips moving to kiss gently at Clint’s throat.

“I don’t want to put pressure on you,” he says hissing, “plus I wanna pleasure you first.”

Bruce smiled against his throat, nodding as he pulled back, looking up at Clint innocently. “You do? Well, then,” he teased. “Please away.”

Clint grins and begins to undo his shirt very slowly followed by his pants and shoes as he does a strip tease for Bruce before pushing him to the bed and straddling him as he takes Bruce’s shirt off slowly.

Bruce watches Clint with fascination, mouth open in slight surprise. He would never get over seeing Clint naked—he was beautiful. And then he was being pushed back, and he flushed, looking up at Clint and biting his lip as the other undid his shirt.

Clint smiles down at Bruce, “you can tell me to stop whenever you want Bruce,” he says before he begins to kiss his chest heading up towards his neck.

"I don’t think I’ll want you to stop," Bruce murmurs in reply, leaning his head back so Clint can get to his throat. "Not if it’s you…"

Clint kisses him on the lips, “yeah well if it gets too much tell me to stop. I’ll take it slow with ya,” he says as he licks the side of Bruce’s neck.

Bruce makes a soft, pleased noise, eyes fluttering shut as he turns his head to the side. “Mm…thank you, Clint. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Clint doesn’t say anything else as he lets his fangs nip his neck leaving a small incision he licks the blood from the wound and grins before kissing Bruce giving him tongue. His hands explore Bruce’s body he uses one hand to flick and tease Bruce’s nipple.

Bruce makes soft sounds as Clint touches him, his own hands running slow and careful fingers over Clint’s sides and arms, kissing him back deeply, tasting his own blood on Clint’s tongue and shuddering.

Clint moans at Bruce’s touches and puts his head down to suck on Bruce’s nipple as his hands trail down his back and squeeze on his crotch softly. He pulls away grinning, “hmm hard already are we,” he grins as he sits up and begins to undo Bruce’s belt from his pants. He looks at Bruce for approval.

Bruce’s back arches as Clint touches him, and he swallows, breath catching in his throat when Clint grabs him. He looks down at the man with hazy eyes, biting his lip and nodding his approval. “Y-yeah,” he murmurs, trying to smirk. “Y-you have that effect on me…”

Clint grins as he pulls Bruce’s pants off and leaves his underwear one and kisses his harden member through the underwear. He begins to fondle Bruce through his underwear, “oh dear it seems I’ve forgotten how to take your underwear off,” he teases as he begins to kiss and suck on Bruce through the fabric.

Bruce makes soft, needy noises, fingers gripping the sheets as he shifts his hips, biting his lip and trying to keep himself under control. “T-tease,” he groans, bucking his hips a bit and covering his face with one hand.

Clint grins and pulls back, “I’m not teasing you that badly yet,” he says pulling his underwear down to his hip bones so he’s still covered before he starts to suck and kiss his hip bone area.

"There’s /worse/ teasing?" Bruce asks, sounding slightly worried, slightly curious, and he bites his lip as Clint kisses his hips, reaching down one hand to push gentle fingers through the blonds hair. "You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?"

“Well an orgasm does mean a little death,” he smirks. Clint moans when Bruce’s fingers massage his scalp and he doesn’t say anything else as he moves further down to where the crevice of Bruce’ privates and thigh meet before licking it slowly then sucking on the soft flesh.

Bruce lets out a pleased whimper, hand gripping the blond hair a bit tighter, and he bites back anymore sound, body flushed and thrumming with want.

Clint grunts a little and stops sucking, “you can pull it harder,” he says before lifting his head up and pulling Bruce’s underwear all the way off. He takes a few minutes to admire Bruce before he goes down on him and starts at the base of his cock and lick it from the bottom up fondling his balls.

Bruce brings both hands into Clint’s hair, gripping it tight and tugging as Clint works over him, hips bucking up against the heat of his tongue, broken murmurs and groans building in the back of his throat.

Clint grunts and groans as Bruce tugs on him before he moves to the tip of Bruce’s penis. He licks the head first before building saliva up in his mouth before he slowly begins to go down on Bruce.

Bruce’s toes curl and his back arches, breath coming in short pants. “Cl-Clint,” he murmurs like an oath, bucking his hips up slightly, voice needy and fangs tugging at his lip.

Clint snickers to himself as he begins to move slowly back and forth making sure to suck at the right areas and linger on certain areas longer than others. He begins to get faster as he moves his head up and down on Bruce.

Bruce’s moans become a bit more frantic, hips rolling up in time with Clint’s head, and he scrambles one hand against the sheets, yanking, the other still pushing through Clint’s hair desperately. “Cl-Clint, I’m—” His voice breaks, groaning.

Clint just moans and keeps his motion going in a steady rhythm with Bruce.

It’s not long before Bruce is moaning incoherent pleas, back arching off the bed, and he tenses. “F-fuck, Clint, I— I’m gon-na—”

Clint keeps going before he feels Bruce’s load go off in his mouth he pulls back and swallows and grins at him, “you taste delicious Bruce,” he grins up at him before teasing him by trailing his fingers across his chest, “I seem to have a similar problem would you like to fix it?”

Bruce slumps back against the bed for a moment, winded and sated, before he looks down at his mischievous lover and chuckles, softly, voice a bit hoarse. “I can definitely do that,” Bruce murmurs, reaching to tug Clint further up, kissing him lightly and sighing happily against his lips.

Clint squeaks at the tug and blushes before Bruce is kissing him again. He puts his hands on either side of Bruce so he doesn’t fall on him as he continues to kiss him, “what ya gonna do,” he asks rubbing against Bruce creating friction and tension with no release as he moans.

Bruce’s lips move to trail Clint’s throat, nipping gently. “I’m going to do…plenty,” he murmurs, turning them over and straddling Clint’s thighs, smirking and taking his wrists, holding them above his head against the mattress. “What do you /want/ me to do to you, Clint? What…do you need?” He rocks his hips slowly against Clint’s need.

Clint is surprised by the turn around but smiles up at Bruce as his member twitches, “anything you want.”

Bruce cupped Clint, bending down to kiss his throat once more, breath ghosting over his skin as his fangs nipped at him. “I like the sound of that,” Bruce replied, grinning as he took Clint’s cock more fully in his hand, teasing across the length.

Clint hisses as Bruce nips his neck and wiggles under him. He looks down and feels Bruce holding his dick in his hand and bucks shivering as Bruce teases him, “such a tease,” he says panting.

"Pay back," Bruce replies, thumb running over the head of Clint’s member as he kisses his way down to Clint’s chest, murmuring happily. "I’m going to tease you until you’re //begging// for me," he murmurs against Clint’s skin.

“Fucking bastard,” he says wiggling under him as he grips the sheets.

"You love me," Bruce replies, smirking, pressing himself down Clint’s body, letting his tongue slowly and playfully cross over his body, keeping up a slow rhythm of strokes over Clint’s length. "You love me and you’re going to /scream/ for me."

Clint turns his face away as it gets red and he gets embarrassed. He moans as Bruce touches him and bucks in his hand, “Bruce,” he whines.

"You’re beautiful," Bruce murmurs, keeping the slow, steady pace, bringing his other hand to fondle Clint as he licked and nipped slowly down his side. He looked up at Clint, his red flush, and smiled dopily. "Absolutely beautiful."

Clint turns away and covers his mouth trying to hide his face, “not beautiful,” he says trying to hold his moans back as he shivers at Bruce’s touch. He groans, “you’re killing me.”

Bruce pauses, his hand never slowing, kissing his way back up Clint’s body, nipping and sucking, and he kisses Clint, hard. “Beautiful,” he insists, nuzzling Clint’s throat, and suddenly he ups the pace, pumping Clint faster, squeezing just a bit tighter.

Clint groans in pleasure and bites his arm to muffle the sound because he sounds so wanton and is embarrassed because this is Bruce the virgin he shouldn’t be sounding like it’s his first time too and he just feels terrible about making so much noise. “B-bruce…gonna, cum.”

Bruce pulls up from leaving a hickey on Clint’s throat, loving every needy sound Clint tries to muffle and hide, looking at Clint with a heated, lustful gaze. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, kissing Clint once, jerking Clint to a fast, steady pace. “I got you. Cum for me.” He smiles, sweet, and maybe just a bit devilish.

Clint groans and his face scrunches up as he releases his load onto Bruce. “Shit Bruce I’m sorry,” he said wiping the cum from Bruce’s chest. “I did warn you though,” he pants a bit before grinning, “my turn,” he says flipping Bruce down back on the bed and grabbing the lube, “I’m gonna work your tight hole so hard you’ll be seeing stars,” he says as he lubes his fingers up for Bruce grinning.

A few hours later Clint has and arm draped over Bruce as he groans feeling sore, “Bruce I think you ripped my ass. You sure are a fast learner.”

Bruce sprawls out happily, running one hand through Clint’s hair and smiling dazedly up at the ceiling. “I pride myself in learning fast,” he replies, smirking slow and wicked as he glances down at Clint, before he kisses the man’s forehead. “And I guess you could say I learned from the best.” He chuckles. “I won’t be walking straight for a week.”

Clint grins and turns to look at him, “hmm I’m sure I can straighten your walk out with my dick. Doctor’s orders,” he asks him grinning as he leans over to give him a kiss on the lips.

Bruce rolls his eyes, kissing him back and cupping his cheek. “You’re an idiot,” he murmurs, chuckling. “But…I love you, so I guess I’m stuck with you.”

“Stuck like glitter glue and tighter than girly jeans,” he grins at him lying on his chest content.

Bruce sighed contently, watching Clint with fond, soft eyes. “Forever, too,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss him softly. “Stuck like eternity.”


End file.
